


His Highness's Constellation

by 0KKULTiC



Series: The King & The Constellation [1]
Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Renaissance, Ambiguously 1600's, Apink ensemble - Freeform, Castles, Complete, Concubine, Concubine!Ong, Drama, Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, Forced Prostitution, Historical Inaccuracy, JBJ ensemble - Freeform, Jaehwan Woojin & Baejin are minor characters in this story, King!Daniel, M/M, Molestation, Objectification, Part 1, Politics, Renaissance Era, Royalty, Sex, Sexual Slavery, Side Ships, Slow Burn, Smut, Violence, War, chapters tagged individually as well, it's like beauty and the beast if you squint, just very dubious, mentions of other Idols, period drama, very very very very slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-02-22 11:43:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 270,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13166235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0KKULTiC/pseuds/0KKULTiC
Summary: Stamping out the remains of resistance in a remote village, a high ranking general spots Ong Seongwoo, recognizing the defiant man for his stunning beauty. In the moment before Seongwoo is given a painful and potentially fatal injury, the General stops his soldier from going through with the act of violence. The General decides that the young man would make a perfect gift to signify the conquest.Scraped up from a musty village, Ong Seongwoo is thrown into the midst of the Kang Kingdom's volatile court. Relegated to the role of his highness's play thing, the concubine must navigate the gilded maze of sex, gossip, and politics in order to survive. Of course, things aren't as they seem...





	1. Stargazing

**Author's Note:**

> CHAPTER 1 WARNING(S): depiction(s) of violence

A thick cloud of sulfur hung in the air. The smog combined with the last rays of the setting sun gave the air a sallow, yellow appearance, as if the world itself had come down with an illness. It smelled of burning rot, nauseating all who had the misfortune of breathing it in. Tall pillars of orange flame rose to the sky, signifying sites that used to be homes or shops. The few commoners still alive struggled to move, trudging the best they could through the debris ridden mud. There were many obstacles in their way from the rubble of fallen buildings to the limp corpses of their fallen countrymen. Roaring fire, musket shots, and the screams of resistors sounded out, but seemed to be choked out by the smoke that enveloped the hellscape.

 

Finally, the last village of the Lang Kingdom had fallen.

 

“General Park!” A soldier hollered up to his superior who sat atop a chestnut horse. He wore a slotted mask, muffling his voice slightly.

 

The decorated officer looked down at his underling. Despite the putrid smell of burning and dust in the air, he slid his own mask down to speak, “At ease. What is it?”

 

“We’ve found where the civilians are hiding. It’s the last structure standing - on the far east side of the village. It appears to be a library, sir.”

 

General Park Jihoon gave the infantry a satisfied smile, “Good work. We will not touch the structure until we apprehend all of the able-bodied villagers.”

 

“What about the rest, General?”

 

“My mission is simple. Take those who are willing or able to work. Cut down any who stand in our way. As for anything in between, well, they have nothing to do with my orders.” General Jihoon said. The newly minted officer felt exceptionally pleased with the work of him and his squadron. He gave his steed a light kick on the side, urging it to trot forward, “Make sure there are no stragglers!” He called back to the common soldier, “I am going to go oversee the final part of our operation.” With that, the General slid his mask back on, disappearing in the distance.

 

He rode past the crumbled, smoldering remains of houses, crushed carts, and burning glass. The further from the epicenter he got, the smaller the fires were. Pillars of flame receded into smoldering piles of ash, the smoke thinned out, giving way to crisp air that smelled of grass and earth. The last semblance of life the village had took the form of a two leveled building. Jihoon’s soldiers had already made a sparse perimeter around the thing, all greeting him formally as he dismounted his horse.

 

“How many are in there?” Jihoon asked one of the men standing guard.

 

“Not many. Maybe thirty, give or take.”

 

The General nodded, “I trust one of you informed the messenger to direct the caravan this way.”

 

“Yes, sir.” The man said.

 

Jihoon looked satisfied. “As you were.” He said before entering the building.

 

Walking in, the place smelled of dust and old books. Save for a few blocks of fading sunlight shining through the windows, the place was incredibly dark. The General felt glad to see that all of the rounded up villagers seemed to have obeyed their orders. The thirty or so men, women, and children all sat toward the back wall of the apparent library, clinging to one another. Jihoon noted how rich in diversity the village was. They had a variety of skin colors, some tan from working in the sun, some bloodied red, many brown due to having their faces slammed in the mud, and even a couple purple with bruises.

 

“Thank you for rounding everyone up,” Jihoon told one of the footsoldiers  watching the group. The imposing figure walked closer to the fearful crowd, inspecting them wordlessly. To his chagrin, the majority of the crowd was women and children. No new soldiers, but plenty that would surely be capable workers. He assumed most of the men had died defending their village. There were, however, a few, much to the General’s delight.

 

“If I may have your attention,” General Jihoon bellowed. The villagers collectively shrunk back, some gasping in fear. “Your Kingdom has fallen. Your way of life is going to change, but we urge you not to panic.” Despite his plie, people immediately reacted to the news, many softly sniffling and one small child outright crying. Jihoon scowled in their direction as he continued, “As I said your life will change drastically, but since you have been a cooperative lot you have earned yourself a chance at a new life.” The crying child merely cried louder.

 

“Over the next few hours, the following is going to happen. Your village will be gone, completely consumed by flames. You will be given a choice. Now, the first choice is to stay here and be us.” Jihoon chuckled, “This, of course, will result in a painful death. Or you can continue to be obedient. In this case, you will be bound together by your wrists and feet. Then, with our caravan, you shall be escorted to the Kang Kingdom, your new home. Once there, your skills will be evaluated and you shall be designated living and a job based on our needs and your capabilities. From there you can start a new life as a loyal citizen to the Kang Kingdom.” Though everyone else sat in stunned silence, the crying child wailed. Finally, something snapped in one of the footsoldiers, and the man charged toward the young kid.

 

“I’ve had about enough of you-” The soldier started, lifting his hand to deliver a brutal backhanded smack.

 

“Don’t touch him!” A voice called out in defiance. With his arms protectively looped around the young child stood a young man, close to the General’s age.

 

“What did you just say to me!?” The soldier asked, furious. He leapt toward the young man, seizing his collar and dragging him to the front of the crowd. Jihoon rolled his eyes. He wondered why people insisted on resisting at a time like this.

 

For some reason, the young man still seemed to have the courage the speak out, “I said don’t touch him.” The soldier threw the man on the ground, his body making a large thud against the hardwood floor. The General crossed his arms in annoyance. While he wasn’t opposed to setting an example, they were on a timetable. The caravan was likely due at the library soon, and he wanted to make sure all of the troops were at camp before the moon was directly overhead.

 

“You’re first,” The soldier snarled, “Then it’s the child’s turn.” He took his musket out of its holster, holding by the barrel. The General watched his foot soldier lift it up, readying to take a swing at the young man. Jihoon glanced at the soon-to-be victim. Thoughtlessly, his gaze lingered, tracing the features of the man looking death in the eye.

 

“Say goodbye to your villagers,” The soldier finally said, bringing the stock heavily down toward the man’s head. Everyone in the room watched, holding their breath, waiting for the telltale, sickly sound of the hardwood cracking bone.

 

“Clink!”

 

Nobody expected to hear the metallic clink of metal on metal. Every head in the room snapped toward the source of the sound. The soldier had expected his rifle to come in contact with a human head, not with a rifle identical to his own. Following the stock and barrel, the footsoldier looked in the eyes of the man who had intercepted his blow.

 

“General?” He asked, fear palpable in the man’s tone.

 

“At ease, soldier.” Jihoon commanded.

 

“B-but sir-”

 

“I said at ease.” Jihoon said again, more firmly. The soldier holstered his rifle, looking puzzled and anxious.

 

“You,” The General turned to the man on the floor, “Come here.” He said. He grabbed the man roughly by the arm, dragging him toward the window. The people of the village merely looked on, still afraid and confused. When he found a spot with decent enough lighting, Jihoon grabbed the man’s face callously, turning it every which way as if he was evaluating livestock. Even more degrading, the General began groping and prodding his body, running his hand’s down the man’s sides, stomach, and ass. When the unceremonious inspection concluded, Jihoon stepped back, a small grin on his face.

 

“You are not to touch him.” He hollers to the soldiers in the room. “If this man dons so much as a papercut because of one of you, I will see to it personally you suffer a fate worse than death. Soldiers, please take the remaining civilians outside to the caravans. This one-” He looked at the rebellious young man,”-is with me.”

 

In a quarter of an hour everyone had cleared out of the library. The majority of the commoners were corralled into the caravans, and they soon rolled out toward the Kang encampment a kilometer away.

 

Jihoon, holding a knife, commanded, “Get on the horse. Try anything funny and I’ll cut you,” He nodded his head toward his own chestnut horse. The man’s eyes were puffy and red; he looked sick with misery, but obliged. The General climbed on behind him, binding the man’s hands to the horn so he couldn’t escape. Grabbing hold of the reins around the prisoner, the general prompted the horse to start a steady trot alongside the convoy.

 

“Tell me,” Jihoon said, “What is your name?” His passenger said nothing; his eyes were downcast. The General asked again, this time more insistently, “Your name. Now. I am growing impatient.”

 

“Why does it matter?” The man finally responded, his voice shaky,“Aren’t you going to kill me anyways?” Jihoon could feel the man shiver from behind him.

 

“If I wanted to kill you I would have done it before, in front of everyone. I could have made a good example of you.” The General replied.

 

“But you didn’t.”

 

“That’s right, I didn’t. However if you continue to try my patience, I may reconsider your fate.”

 

“Ong Seongwoo,” He finally admitted. “My name is Ong Seongwoo.”

 

Jihoon smiled, not that the man in front of him could see it. “Ong Seongwoo?” He chuckled, “Even your name is distinct… I suppose you’re wondering why I’m keeping you like this. It’s okay to be curious. Tell me, Ong, are you curious?” His casual, almost genial tone only served to unsettle the prisoner further.

 

“I- I suppose I am.” He said.

 

“To be honest, you are very lucky I got a look at you before my soldier bashed your head in. I had no qualms in letting him do it, but… Then I saw you. I do wonder what a beauty such as yourself is doing wasting away in a dusty old library. You look stunning and exotic even among your own people. With your fair complexion and fit body, you will make the perfect present for the king.”

 

Seongwoo froze up, a small gasp escaping his lips.

 

“Oh, don’t be like that.” The General cooed facetiously. “You will live in the lap of luxury as a concubine. I mean, if you prefer the alternative, I can send you to prison for your insubordination. I’m sure the other inmates could use a new toy. Pretty thing like you? You’d be one of the most sought after playthings in your cell block.”

 

“No.” Ong cried.

 

Jihoon grinned, “That’s a good boy. His highness will be most pleased with his gift, I believe. And you… Considering the circumstances, you are a very, very lucky man.” He felt the slender figure bound to the horn shudder, muted sobs sounded out above the clacking of hooves and turning of wheels.

 

Ong Seongwoo turned his head over his shoulder, looking back upon the burning remains of the village for one last time. Eventually, even the raging flames receded in the distance. Only the hazy, yellow smoke billowing out of the place’s smoldering corpse remained, no doubt soon to fade in the coming days. Tears falling, the prisoner forced his gaze forward. He knew he would never see that place again.


	2. The Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CHAPER 2 WARNING(S): explicit language

Grinding wagon wheels were the first thing that Seongwoo heard upon waking. He squinted at the sudden rays of sunlight that assailed his just woken eyes. He instinctively moved to sit up, but ran into two problems. His first issue was the dull pains that immediately cried out throughout his entire body. Everything felt sore, his neck, his head, his legs. Every single muscle he had ached. His arms and legs felt terribly stiff, likely from his second problem: his bindings.

 

His recollections of the past few days were hazy. He vaguely remembered returning to a military encampment shortly after being captured. He heard the cries of villagers in the distance, people barking out orders, animals, crackling fires. By the time they had reached the camp, the sun had long receded below the horizon. Only a few small fires and lanterns had illuminated the inky darkness. Small rations of food had been given out at some point, Seongwoo had been tied up once again. At some point the next morning everyone had been loaded up into wagons and their journey began.

 

After that, his life had been a series of caravan rides. Seongwoo honestly wondered if the General had slipped something into his meals; he felt like he had been asleep for the full duration of their journey. Only brief splashes of time seemed to stick in his mind. Waking up, he would see sunlight, hear wagon wheels and cattle and chatter, perhaps he would eat something, then darkness again. He wondered what the new day brought on. He’d spent so much time unconscious, he didn’t have a grasp of how long the journey had been.

 

“I trust you slept well, handsome.” The voice of General Park had regrettably become familiar.

 

“Mn…” Seongwoo could barely muster a response. His body hurt from the days of being jostled around in a wagon.

 

“Sorry, pet. You must be thirsty.” The General gave Seongwoo a smile. He tipped the prisoner’s head slightly with one hand, the other holding a canteen. “Drink.” He commanded, slowly pouring water between the prisoner’s lips.

 

Seongwoo resented the fact that his captor simultaneously played the role of his provider. He knew he had no choice but to oblige- not for the general’s sake, but for his own. Still, he despised every second of it.

 

“You’ll need your strength,” The General said. “Today is going to be the most important day of your life.” General Park had the gall to give his prisoner a cheeky wink. It irked Seongwoo to no end.

 

“Do you see that?” General Park gestured out the small window of the wagon. The prisoner followed the man’s pointing hand to gaze out the window. His eyes widened, greeted with the sight of an environment vastly different from the one he had been captured from. Even from afar, the structure in the distance appeared massive.

 

The crown jewel of the kingdom, Jeon Castle.

 

A vast, glittering lake sat in front of the grand castle. Ong figured the width alone could span the distance of three villages, let alone what lie beyond eyesight. As the castle grew nearer, the prisoner could make out beautifully crafted statues and immaculately shaped hedges and topiaries. His jaw dropped. As the wagon moved forward, more and more ornate details could be seen: intricate columns, beautiful, hand-crafted window treatments, colored tiles accenting window sills… Workers in the gardens looked focused on their no doubt meticulous lawn maintenance.

 

Seongwoo had only heard whisperings of the place. People talked about how a person could wander for days and never walk the same corridor twice. There were theories about hidden passages and fake doors. Occasionally people liked to act out ghost stories around the fire, saying the deceased queen’s spirit still walks the castle halls on full moon nights.

 

“Welcome home,” The General said contentedly.

 

The castle seemed to approach so quickly, and soon the wagon took a turn around the perimeter of the goliath of a building. Dipping between some trees, the wagon slowed as it reached the final destination.

 

Behind the grand facade of the castle face workers milled about doing a myriad of tasks; it almost felt like being backstage at a play. Workers tended to horses in stables, and people shouldered sacks and jugs of food. Laundresses tended to massive, beautifully woven textiles while younger servants made an assembly line to take care of various dishes.

 

Finally, the wagon rolled to a stop. Seongwoo felt wary about making any sudden movements around the General, so he waited for the other man’s lead. Jihoon grabbed the dagger he kept sheathed on his thigh and slashed Seongwoo’s ankle bindings. Extending a hand, the General helped the man out of the wagon, grabbing him by the arm once he had successfully gotten out.

 

“G-General!” “General Park?” “Is that the General?” “Oh my god-” Momentarily, all work ceased upon seeing General Park Jihoon, a hero for the Kang Kingdom, gracing their presence. Jihoon nodded amicably as he passed by the servants with Seongwoo in tow. They entered the castle and walked through a series of rooms crowded with working servants. Nerves fluttered in Seongwoo’s chest. A few days prior he had woken up in a quaint village, now he was being escorted through the depths of the enemy’s own castle. After passing through a few doors, Jihoon seemed to have found the person to whom he wished to speak.

 

“Eunji!” The General greeted a woman close to his own and Seongwoo’s age.

 

After barking some orders at other servants, she acknowledged the general with a polite smile, “General Jihoon! While I appreciate the surprise, I do wonder: what brings you down here? Wait-” She finally noticed Seongwoo, held tightly by Jihoon’s side, and quirked an eyebrow. “What does _he_ have to do with this? What kind of scheme are you hatching up this time?”

 

Jihoon beamed, gesturing enthusiastically to Seongwoo next to him, “Meet- Meet- What’s your name?” Jihoon asked.

 

Seongwoo frowned, “Ong Seongw-”

 

“Ong! Meet Ong!”

 

Eunji looked unimpressed with Jihoon’s presentation, merely quirking an eyebrow at him momentarily. She rolled her eyes and responded, “It’s very nice to meet you. Jung Eunji, head housekeeper for the east wing of the castle. Now- Why are you tied up? Why is he tied up, General? Have you brought me some kind of criminal?”

 

General Park grinned, “Even better, it’s a gift! Found this gem hiding in a moldy library during the last mission.” The head housekeeper looked at Seongwoo again, this time her gaze inquisitive. She walked around the captured man, looking him up and down as if he were prize cattle.

 

“Interesting. Who’s this one for, then?” She asked. Seongwoo frowned, noticing that the housekeeper regarded him differently the second Jihoon called him a “gift”.

 

“His Highness, of course.” Jihoon replied coolly.

 

Eunji blinked animatedly, clearly taken aback by the gift’s recipient, “I- Wh- The- The… The King?”

 

“He is clearly beautiful enough.”

 

“Wh- Yes, of course, but… You really think the King would like him?”

 

Seongwoo watched the two go back and forth, prattling about how he would soon be offered up to _the_ King, ruler of the Kingdom. He resented the fact that the two found his own voice completely nonessential to the conversation.

 

“So you’ll fix him up? I want to present him to court this evening.” Jihoon said.

 

“This evening? That’s- That’s hours from now.”

 

“Eunji, you know I come to you because you’re the best. I need this to be a surprise, and I need it to be absolutely flawless. You are the only one I can trust to do it right.”

 

The housekeeper crossed her arms, “I’m also one of the few people under this roof not afraid of you.”

 

“Please?” Jihoon asked, giving an animated pout. The man who stood next to Seongwoo now seemed worlds apart from the one who had burnt down a village days before.

 

“Well, if it’s for the King…”

 

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” Jihoon finally let go of Seongwoo to wrap Eunji in a suffocating hug.

 

“I’ll get in touch with Sungwoon and have him ready no later than six tonight.” Eunji said. She stroked her chin, already thinking about how she planned on executing the challenge ahead.

 

Jihoon clapped, “Excellent! And you-” He finally acknowledged Seongwoo again, he lowered his voice, whispering in the other’s ear, “If you try anything, I will personally cut off both of your legs so you can’t escape when the other prisoners rape you as you bleed out.” Seongwoo nodded, his face growing pale. He knew that it was in neither the time nor place to make an escape attempt, and he got the impression that the General would gleefully make good on his promise. As Jihoon and Eunji said their goodbyes, Seongwoo felt immensely grateful that he’d been released into the housekeeper’s custody.

 

“First,” Eunji said once Jihoon had disappeared from sight, “Let’s take care of this.” Much to Ong’s surprise, the housekeeper made quick work of the knot that kept his wrists bound. She deftly untied the rope, freeing his hands. Seongwoo let out a sigh of relief, rubbing his sore, raw wrists.

 

“Okay, follow me!” The woman said. With those words, she was off, quickly striding through the servant’s many work areas. She didn’t bother looking back to see if Seongwoo was following her, quickly pacing along. The two went into rooms, down corridors, and through doors passing more people busy at work. Finally Eunji stopped in what appeared to be a laundry room. Laundresses milled about rubbing linens on washboards and wringing things dry.

 

Eunji clapped loudly, “Ladies!” She hollered. Everyone’s attention turned to her. “I need a bath! I am working on behalf of General Park, this man-” She pointed to Seongwoo, “Is to be presented as a gift to the King in less than seven hours.” The girls in the room collectively gasped, some giggling while others whispered to one another. “Well? Laundry can wait, this is a much more pressing matter!” She clapped again, and suddenly all the women in the room went to work. They moved with the efficiency of an ant colony, working together to grab a tub, drape the linen, collect oils and herbs, and fill it with steamy water.

 

Seongwoo yelped as the servants swiftly ripped his clothes off. Two surprisingly strong women dragged him toward a large copper tub, nearly throwing him in. He’d barely stepped in when someone forcefully pushed his head beneath the hot water. He gasped as he surfaced, skin pricking with goosebumps. The strong smell of scented oils tickled his nose, eliminating any trace of grogginess that may have remained from his trip.

 

“Wh- What is this?” He stuttered, looking in horror as the amount of servants surrounding him doubled. Suddenly, his limbs were no longer his own, arms seizing each of his appendages. He inhaled sharpy through his teeth as coarse bristles raked at his skin.

 

One of the servants spoke up, saying frankly, “You’ve been living in that shithole village for heaven knows how long. Not to mention being in a wagon for days. You can’t meet him looking like this.”

 

Ong’s eyes widened. Hearing a servant, no less a woman, speak so vulgarly was foreign to him. He replied,“Wha-” His words were cut off by a bucket of water dousing him from above. He gasped, frowning as another pair of hands began callously massaging his scalp. It felt like it’d been years since Seongwoo had had a proper bath. Under different circumstances, he would luxuriate in the warm water; however, the Kang Kingdom only extended their generosity for their lord’s sake, not his enjoyment.

 

By the time the flock of servants were done with him, every bit of Seongwoo’s skin felt raw and sensitive. The people tending to him gave him no rest, chattering away as the rubbed his skin with oils and creams until he felt more slick than a slug. Once again, servants handed him off to another group of people. One of the many women present draped a simple cloth over him, shoving him toward another servant and muttering words about measurement and clothes.

 

Servants whisked him off in every which direction, herding him like livestock. He got dragged through rooms and led through hallways. Though he initially considered it advantageous to see the castle, he quickly realized that he had zero sense of his bearings. The wallpaper and tapestries changed, but it did little to aid Seongwoo in wayfinding.

 

In spite his burning desire to escape, the prisoner kept his head down. He decided to play along cooperatively for as long as he needed too. He held no personal ill will toward the people merely doing their jobs and wished them no inconvenience. A few servants routed Seongwoo down yet another hallway, and the prisoner obeyed, thinking about how he planned to bide his time before making an attempt to escape.

 

* * *

 

King Daniel sat atop a throne of blue velvet atop gleaming silver on an elevated platform. Rays of sunlight shone through windows, illuminating the throne. The light bouncing off of it made it glow as if the angels themselves had gifted it to the kingdom. Next to the throne stood the King’s advisor. He seemed to be having a hushed conversation with his royal highness.

 

Though the King and the advisor spoke hushedly, the rest of the members of the court milled about. Nobility of all ages and rank had gathered as they always did, dressed in the finest clothes, conversing cordially about trade endeavors or personal affairs. The general chatter bounced off of the high ceilings of the throne chamber, wrapping the space with a blanket of low, echoing noise.

 

A young herald scurried to the entrance of the throne room, bellowing,“General Park Jihoon has arrived bearing gifts for his highness!” The mood of the court perked up significantly upon hearing of the General’s return. Members of the court turned to one another, chatting animatedly about the General’s arrival.

 

The King smiled, delighted to hear of the General’s return from his tour of duty, “I’m excited to hear about it personally from the General.” He looked eagerly at the entrance, his grin growing as the pretty General strode in. Despite the long tour in lands afar, General Park’s face retained the glow of youth and exuberance.

 

“Your highness,” Jihoon said, bowing.

 

“Cut the formality, Jihoon.” Daniel chuckled, standing up from his throne and descending the steps of the platform. He met the General with open arms, pulling him into a rough hug. Other members of the court followed, flocking to the General to welcome him back. “You look well! How was your tour? When did you arrive?” The King asked, returning to his seat.

 

“Just this morning, your highness. I would have announced myself earlier, but I had a few things to take care of prior to returning. Of course, I will have a brief ready for you at the tactical meeting this evening.”

 

“Excellent.” The King bounced in his seat. “We are glad to have you back.”

 

“Nothing makes me happier than being back in your company, your highness.” Jihoon’s eyes twinkled as he fixed his gaze on the King. “Ah- Of course, I did not return empty handed.” King Daniel raised his eyebrows in interest, eagerly awaiting his surprise.

 

General Park beamed, stepping aside. He waved to the servants behind him, ushering them to bring the king’s gift forward. Two servants stood on each side of the man, each holding an indigo cord of silk. The silken ropes each held the wrist of a cloaked figure. The King sat up straighter in his throne, cocking an eyebrow in interest. He watched intently.

 

Face glowing with pride, Jihoon promenaded over to the concealed person. He tapped the person on the back of the neck which signaled them to drop to their knees.

 

“For you, my King.” He said, getting down on one knee himself, “A present. A fair gem I found among the rubble in the east. I would like to give you this gift as a symbol of my gratitude to your gracious leadership, and most importantly,” He stood up, “To remember our triumphant victory.” The General took hold of the velvet cloak and removed it with a flamboyant flourish. A collective gasp came over the sitting members of the royal court. Whispers and murmurs echoed off of the high ceilings of the throne room as every eye trained on the King’s new gift.

 

Kneeling on the marble tile was a young man. He had a fair complexion comparable to that of a porcelain doll. He had been clothed in simple concubine’s garments. The wide neckline of the man’s linen shirt underlined his collarbone and teased at the fit figure beneath. His breeches were simple in silhouette, but the fine, luminous textile draped in such a way that it clung to the curves of his legs. A leather collar fit snugly around his neck, the single metal loop protruding from it no doubt put there for a lead.

 

The King’s interest appeared stirred, but he didn’t say anything. He silently observed, his blank expression revealing nothing of his inner thoughts. The entire court looked on with bated breath. Some carefully observed the King, searching for any sign of emotion, any reaction. Others appeared to be fixated on the gift in the middle of the chamber, admiring its beauty.

 

Shockingly, his highness stood up without a word, prompting those sitting on the sidelines to do the same. They clumsily scrambled to politely mirror his gesture, many still distracted by their own ongoing thoughts. The young monarch slowly descended the ornately tiled steps, the sound of his boots on the tile echoing, filling the room. As he approached his gift at the center, the servants and the General kneeled.

 

The royal’s steps stopped, encasing the chamber with a suffocating silence. Though no explicit noise sounded out, in the quietness a fuzzy murmur began to take form. Perhaps it was the whispers of the walls or the thoughts of onlookers escaping their minds.

 

Seongwoo could feel the gaze of his highness weigh on his shoulders heavily. Sickening nerves bubbled in his stomach at the knowledge that every eye in the room focused on him. As he kneeled, eyes on the ground, he wondered how they measured the worth of a concubine. Did the King stand over him that very moment to appraise him like an animal? Or, perhaps he was already in the process of making lecherous plans.

 

The prisoner fought his urge to lunge at the man. He’d considered it, dreamed of it even. It would likely be the death of him, but a single blow at the King who vexed him and his country would have given him enough satisfaction for the eternity that awaited him. However, the slightest inkling of hope that he may one day escape kept him from engaging in such a dramatic outburst. Seongwoo had never thought himself a particularly prideful creature, but looking at the boots of the man who had taken everything he wanted made his blood boil. Swallowing nervously, the man took his own form of defiance.

 

He lifted his head, his breath wavering, and pointed his gaze directly into the eyes of the high and mighty king. Though miniscule in comparison to his grand visions, the gesture spoke volumes. Hushed gasps fell over the court as they watched a lowly whore, a prisoner scraped out of the burning remains of a damned village, dare look their King in the eye. Seongwoo’s expression remained steady and calm despite the storm of nerves brewing in his chest.

 

That, Seongwoo thought, was the most important thing of all to communicate. Without words, he said, “I’m not scared of you.” He looked into the dark eyes of the man looking down at him. It was the first time he had ever seen King Daniel. There were whisperings about looks, but pictures never made it to his Kingdom. People called him a plethora of things: beautiful, handsome, awe-inspiring… Though he begrudged it, Seongwoo felt inclined to agree.

 

His highness’s eyes were dark, unreadable, and his lips were parted as if there was a question ready to come out. He appeared neither irate nor profoundly upset, merely… curious. He seemed fascinated by what he saw. The two wordlessly assessed one another, each trying to learn something about the man he’d locked eyes with.

The ensuing buzz amongst the court grew, even rousing the attention of the bowing General. When he finally noticed, Jihoon’s pensive expression warped into one of suppressed indignation. One could see his jaw lock up and his mouth press into a line of dissatisfaction.

 

He stood up, lunging toward the presented gift to grab a fistfull of hair. The kneeling man winced, inhaling sharply through his teeth. “My sincerest apologies, your highness. This one’s not had the proper training in etiquette-”

 

King Daniel held up his hand to silence him. “Thank you, General. I shall have Jisung’s ward get him set up in his quarters. I am honored to receive such a thoughtful gift from one of my closest friends.”

 

The General bore a smile more luminous than the sun while the rest of the court murmured with gossip. Seongwoo couldn’t suppress the confused expression that fell upon his face. Before he could complete another thought, the servants took hold of his bindings, urging him to stand up. The prisoner reluctantly followed. He looked over his shoulder and stared at the King, disconcerted. His gaze didn’t leave the King until the man was too far away to be seen.


	3. Employed Differently

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 3 WARNING(S): explicit language, objectification

Seongwoo wasn’t sure where he was going. He had been corralled down corridors with countless oil paintings and tables decorated with flowers and pottery. After stumbling to keep up with the rushed servants escorting him, Seongwoo nearly fell over as they came to an abrupt halt. They had stopped in front of a door on which one of the servants knocked.

 

After a minute of waiting, the door opened, and out emerged a neat, bespectacled man. His blond tufts were neatly styled atop his head, and his skin seemed to glow. Given his fair complexion and fine dress, Seongwoo initially thought the man someone of stature. His eyes widened in surprise when he noticed the hooped leather collar around the man’s neck.

 

“You can untie him, I’ll take it from here. As for you,” The blond turned pointedly to Seongwoo, “Don’t think of trying anything funny. Even if you could manage to kill all three of us and take off you’d have to get through guards at every conceivable entrance to the castle. I’ve heard you have a small history of insubordination which is why I want to make this clear: your pretty little head would be served for breakfast tomorrow should you cross me, the King, or anyone else in this castle. Do you understand?”

 

Seongwoo rubbed his wrists, a bit sore from the tight constraints. He nodded.

 

“You can talk, can’t you? Do you understand our language? _Please_ respond verbally.”

 

It struck Seongwoo that playing dumb would be incredibly entertaining, but out of self preservation, he replied, “Yes, I understand.”

 

The man looked relieved, gesturing for Seongwoo to follow him, “Come.” He said, taking up a brisk pace. “My name is Ha Sungwoon. You can think of me as your guide to the castle until you get your bearings. I- What? What is that look you’re giving me? Out with it.” The man looked vexed.

 

“Um… Your… Your collar.” Words felt strange to him at first. Seongwoo hadn’t been allowed to speak in so long he’d nearly forgotten what it felt like. “Does that mean that you’re, um- Are you like me?” He knew there were more tactful ways to ask someone if they were a whore, but was admittedly rusty in the art of diplomatic conversation.

 

The guide looked unperturbed, “If you mean a concubine, then yes, I am. Otherwise,” He chuckled, “I would hope not. If you must know, I answer to Hoon Jisung, advisor and close friend to the King.”

 

“You answer to him?” Seongwoo spoke, not giving particular thought to his words. “You answer to him as a... Concubine, so you- you two-”

 

“Would you prefer to hear that I plow him every night until he howls like a feral animal?”

 

Seongwoo’s cheeks went red,“Just wanted to get the, um-- Go on.”

 

Sungwoon seemed amused, “Don’t ask questions you can’t handle the answer to. And don’t dawdle.” He said, turning a corner. “Now, your day-to-day may vary, but I can provide at least a vague framework of how the days go about. Breakfast shall be delivered to your quarters every morning just before sunrise. It is important that you are awake before your liege.”

 

Seongwoo frowned, “Why’s that? What pressing duties would we have early in the morning?”

 

“If I spelled it out for you, you might blush,” Sungwoon grinned cheekily. Seongwoo rolled his eyes, resenting the implication as the other continued. “Every morning you shall have a bath and be dressed so you you can greet your master. A wardrobe for you is already being put together, so you need not worry about that. Surely I don’t have to tell you that in day to day life you dress appropriately.

 

“You will be let out after being dismissed by your Master, in your case his royal highness. In the evening you will be expected for dinner. You are not to eat with your master, but you will be present. To be frank most of them use us to show off. You will be sure to clean up and dress accordingly.

 

“As of right now I have no idea what your days are to look like. All I can say is that you must follow your King’s orders. I have a feeling you will be expected to look after Lords Peter and Rooney,” The advisor’s right hand said, pacing quickly down the long hallway.

 

“Wait- What? Children?” Seongwoo asked.

 

Sungwoon stop in his tracks, and Ong nearly collided with him. He looked back at Ong judgmentally, pushing his glasses up the ridge of his nose. “You could call them that, I suppose,” Sungwoon said, “However they’re of the furry, four-legged variety.”

 

“Oh, pets.” Seongwoo sounded relieved. Sungwoon picked up his brisk walking pace once more, not looking back to see if Seongwoo was following. The two walked in silence for a number of minutes, passing through a series ornately decorated corridors. Finally, Sungwoon stopped in front of an immaculately crafted ebony door. Along the doorframe, carved stars spelled out the constellations. The massive sun and moon on the top and bottom panels of the door were forged by silver and looked pristinely polished.

 

“These will be your quarters. Welcome to your new home.” The guide told him, opening the heavy door with care. He opened it, leading Seongwoo into a beautifully decorated bedchamber. It looked entirely different than the stark, classic decor of the castle interior. A beautifully woven rug laid beneath a large, round bed. The whimsically shaped bed had colorful pillows heaped on top of it, and a draped canopy of red silk created a luxurious sheath of privacy. Next to it stood an exquisitely carved bedside table, and on the opposite wall there was a matching wardrobe. Even the fireplace across the bed looked ornate, the exterior covered in hand painted tiles. The space wasn’t large, but it felt warm and cozy.

 

“All of this for a… A…”

 

“A concubine is more than a common whore, Ong.” Sungwoon said. “You are now the King’s companion. The comforts you lend him may not always be of the flesh. That brings me to the most important feature of your room.” The blond paced over to an open spot on the wall behind the bed, knocking a few times. Seongwoo quirked an eyebrow at the man’s apparent check of the wall’s stability.

 

Suddenly, the wall opened - a secret door. Sungwoon casually walked through the threshold and Seongwoo followed, his mouth open in shock. The room his wall opened into had to have been at least twice the size. The massive, canopied bed looked like it could be the size of a house. The high ceiling had intricately carved gold florals bordering a beautifully painted scene. A massive fireplace occupied the corner, and across from that sunlight shone through a large window. All of the decor, from the chairs to the accent tables, matched perfectly. It appeared as if every detail of the space had been painstakingly mulled over, down to the square centimeter.

 

Seongwoo started,“This is the…”

 

“This is the King’s bedroom. Easy access will assure nobody gets disturbed in the event of late night meetings. Of course, he controls the lock so don’t get any funny ideas. He will summon you when he wants you. Understood?”

 

Seongwoo nodded in response. His eyes wandered across the King’s bedroom, the immaculate tile floor, the grand paintings across the walls…

 

“Come on, we don’t have all day!” Sungwoon chirped from the doorway. Seongwoo gave the King’s room one last glance before scurrying alongside his guide.

 

The two continued walking through corridors and rooms, Sungwoon rattling off names and a few minor facts as Seongwoo silently stared at everything. It terrified him to think he would be expected to know how to navigate the place on his own soon. Horrible thoughts of starving to death lost in the stone labyrinth passed through his mind.

 

“-Are you paying attention?” Sungwoon asked, pushing his specs up his nose.

 

“Wh- I- Yes, I have.”

 

“Good.” The guide clucked. “Then you’ll know that where we are is very, very important.” Seongwoo quirked an eyebrow, following Sungwoon through an open door. “Here, stay close to the wall. I don’t want everyone gaping at the King’s new toy.” Seongwoo frowned at the guide begrudgingly, taking a spot against the wall behind a pillar.

 

A small quartet strummed cheerful tunes in one corner of the room. They provided a perfect backdrop to the cordial entertainments that those in the room engaged in. People filled every nook and cranny of the place, sitting around tables, on elaborately woven cushions, or standing around. One would think that the people in the crowd had not a trouble in the world.

 

“Aside from the throne and dining rooms, this is the most common gathering place for the court. The King is at a briefing right now, but I suspect you and him will spend a lot of time here in the future.”

“Doing exactly… What?” Seongwoo inquired.

 

“You will be doing one of the most important duties a concubine must do. You’ll be entertaining.”

 

“I, uh...”  
  
Sungwoon chuckled before elaborating, “As I said, you’re not just there for comforts of the flesh. Socializing is absolutely crucial to court life. It is how things get done, how favor is won and alliances made. Surely the benefits of social interaction is something even a remote village person like yourself understands.”

 

Seongwoo rolled his eyes at the other’s sarcasm, “Why would nobility wish to fraternize with mere servants?”

 

“Come, now. How can you regard yourself as a mere servant after seeing your sleeping quarters?”

 

“Well we’re certainly not,” Seongwoo waved to the nobles lazing about, “Them.”

 

“You’re correct, we are not nobles, nor are we lowly servants. The space we occupy is somewhere… In between.” The two stood in silence for a few minutes, observing the nobles gayly mingling. Seongwoo looked on wistfully, fantasizing about days spent in a court, flirting, chatting, playing games. If only the world were that simple, he thought.

Sungwoon broke the silence, “As for us, we are burdened with such tasks as being charismatic, fun, or at least visually appealing. We may be invited to play cards or asked to join in on a conversation. Don’t expect people to care about what you have to say, we’re mostly expected to contribute a smart joke or two. Some of the people here will probably become quite familiar to you in the future.”

 

“And your duties- Should I anticipate similar work?” Seongwoo asked.

 

Sungwoon returned the question with an amicable smile, “Us concubines are employed very differently, you could say.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well,” The guide said, “For example, I am kept quite busy in the castle. My Master asks more of me than to keep him company.” Seongwoo blushed at the implication. He thought he ought to start getting used to hearing about such things.

 

Sungwoon continued, “I lay out his clothes, help him dress, and run errands for him around the castle. This includes anything from running documents between wings or, well, taking the likes of you under my wing.”

 

“Is that common?”

 

The blond man shook his head, “Not in particular. For example, do you see that slender man over there? The young one?” Seongwoo’s gaze followed the wave of the other’s hand. His eyes fell upon a rather striking individual. The young man was, in fact, slender and tall. He had dark, almond shaped eyes and distinctly plush lips. When he smiled, his grin illuminated his youthful face.

 

“That’s Lai Guanlin, the General’s pet. Funnily enough, he’s another beauty that General Park plucked out of the fields of battle. Found him in the south, I believe, during our occupation of the Lee territories. Guanlin is more of the quintessential concubine, I suppose. He spends his days lazing about and playing as far as I know. The General occasionally brings him gifts from his tours in far away places. If you saw the way Guanlin looked at him… You’d think he was thrilled that he’d been taken as a prize.” Sungwoon’s voice took on a wistful tone for an instant.

 

“Then there’s that one,” Sungwoon directed Seongwoo’s sight to a different part of the room.

 

“Well, first, his Master is Prince Lee Daehwi,” He gestured to an impeccably dressed young man surrounded by people. He appeared to glow, basking in the attention of those surrounding him. “He’s next in line for the throne via some strange relation. Don’t let his bright, youthful looks fool you, the boy is brilliant and tactical in his thinking. Cutthroat, even. Do you see the exotic looking boy next to him?”

 

A boy of similar age stood next to him. He had olive skin and a wide nose, indicating a trace of exotic blood. “Kim Samuel- well, that’s what Prince Daehwi decided to call him.” Sungwoon said. “He appears to be more ornamental than anything else. You can see by his features that his face is particularly rare. I assume the Prince likes to keep him around because of it. I see him reading and writing at times, occasionally he joins the court entertainers to dance, too. Aside from that the boy remains quiet and elusive. Perhaps where you come from, people showed off their finely bred dogs or award winning horses. Within the walls of this castle, Masters show off their concubines.”

 

Hearing those words visibly irked Seongwoo. His insides stirred with dread. Looking around the room everyone seemed so cheerful, dancing, chatting, flirting. It shocked him to think that these people truly saw the keeping of concubines as another component of the day’s tedium.

 

“What of the King?” Seongwoo asked, “Has he tired of his last concubine or is it customary to have more than one?”

 

“That, my friend, is the interesting part.” Sungwoon cocked an eyebrow at the newcomer, “The King has never taken a concubine before.”

 

Seongwoo’s face drew back in befuddlement. “And I shall be so lucky to be the one who pops his cherry, then?” He said bitterly.

 

Sungwoon chuckled, “The court found it most curious when he accepted the gift graciously- you, that is. Some say that the young men and women of nobility are adequate entertainment for his highness. Others believe he’s a sexless creature who quells his carnal desires with a stiff cup of tea and a nap.”

 

Seongwoo thought that he may have found humor in the man’s statements given different circumstances. “What do you think?” He asked the other man.

 

“I think… That you will get to find out firsthand what the King’s true nature is.” He replied, intently looking at Seongwoo.

 

They continued discussing the people of the court for a few minutes. Sungwoon pointed out a number of nobles, pointedly linking them to their respective concubines. Names fell out of Sungwoon’s mouth with the ease of rain falling from the sky. Kim This, Park That, this person served this person, these two people didn’t like one another. Seongwoo found his gaze roaming around independently as Sungwoon droned on.

 

“That man.” Seongwoo’s blood chilled at the sight of him. He looked drastically different, mingling with members of the court. Adorable, even.

 

Sungwoon followed Seongwoo’s glance, quirking an eyebrow. He whispered, “A familiar face?”

 

“He was the one who-” Terrifying visions of the village’s hostile destruction seized his thoughts, “-Who brought me here.” He finished. A knot formed in his gut.

 

“Park Jihoon… Peculiar creature of vanity, that one. He is as ruthless as he is beautiful. I suppose you witnessed that yourself. For such an adorable face, he possesses a surprising sadistic streak. At such a young age, too. Of course...”

 

“Of course what?” Seongwoo asked hushedly.

 

“Look around you, Ong.” Sungwoon whispered. Seongwoo did just that. He silently took in the grand affair before him, the gold foil damask walls, the hand carved gothic frames, countless oil paintings of nobles in front of scenes of conquest, ornately patterned marble tile…

 

“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it,” Sungwoon interrupted the other’s thoughts. “Everything here is decadent and beautiful, the decor and the people. They talk and dine as if day to day affairs are but a trifle to them, gossiping without a care. Take heed from your encounter with Park Jihoon.

 

Things here are not as they appear.

 

Those with the most striking beauty often possess the sharpest thorns.”

 

Seongwoo’s heart dropped, he turned to his guide. “Why are you telling me this?” He whispered.

 

“Because,” Sungwoon frowned, “The sooner you learn this, the sooner you can learn how to survive in this place. You would do well to remember everyone in this room right now.” Seongwoo glanced at the faces of the people in the room. Noblemen and women, milling about, chatting happily, sipping wine and exchanging stories with gleaming smiles.

 

“Everyone here has their own motives, Seongwoo.” The guide told him, “Every. Single. One of them. Not one person in here is without an agenda. My advice to you is this: At some point in time, one of these people is going to ask something of you. In your position, I shall recommend you choose very carefully who to whom you lend your grace.”

 

 "And what about you?" Seongwoo replied. "If you see fit to tell me something like this, why should I think you're any more trustworthy?"

 

Sungwoon grinned slyly, "I never said I was." Across the room a tall, slender man waved the guide over.

 

“Ah, that’s my liege. Remain here until you are called upon. Keep your head down, and do not speak unless spoken to. I will collect you shortly.”


	4. It's Becoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 4 WARNING(s): explicit language, descriptions of nudity

“I will collect you shortly.”

 

Those were the guide’s words.

 

Seongwoo had expected being collected meant he would continue on his merry tour. He knew that the castle expanded far beyond what his brief tour showed him. Despite how the structure intimidated him, he desired to know the ins and outs of the place, thinking the knowledge would prove valuable in the future.

 

Unfortunately, his “collection” had not gone as he’d expected, and the second leg of his tour had been cut drastically short. Upon regrouping, Sungwoon had taken the newly minted concubine back from the direction they came. Seongwoo had nearly felt relief at the sight of familiar paintings and sculptures, but despondent curiosity had quickly taken over. The concubine had once again found himself at the door of the King's quarters. Two present servants had escorted him in, and that'd been the last the man saw of Sungwoon. Though perturbed, the concubine had obliged the instruction of the burly servants who lead him into his highness's room. And so, he found himself on top of the King's bed.

 

In the following minutes, Seongwoo highly regretted every decision he made that'd gotten him to that point.

 

Thoughtlessly, the concubine followed their every order: shedding his shirt and hose, getting on his hands and knees on the bed. It puzzled him slightly, but seeing as the room was empty save for the three of them, he gave it little thought. He obediently held his position, eyes tracing the patterns carved into the headboard as the servants busily worked. It wasn't until one of the servants had fastened something tightly around his thigh that his thoughts woke up. He felt an additional fastening around his ankle, the sound of metallic clinking ringing in his ears. Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes widened, shocked to see his ankle had been chained to the bed frame. His mouth went dry.

 

"Excuse me!" He hollered at one of the servants indignantly, "Wh-What is this?!"

 

One of the servants rolled his eyes, unamused, "Your lot always seems so surprised when you're to be presented to your Master. D'you really think we'd just let you whores loose in here like a farm animal? Especially you-"

 

 

Seething rage momentarily bubbled in Seongwoo's chest. Nothing would have made Ong more happy in that instant than tackling the man who saw fit to compare him to a domestic animal. He lunged toward the servant, but nearly choked as he reached the end of his restraints (one of which had been fixed to his collar). Off balance, Seongwoo had nearly crashed face first into the side of the bed. Shame and vexation broiled inside of him as he saw the servant snort smugly.

 

"Down, boy," The servant sneered. His comrade kept busy and yanked Seongwoo's remaining free wrist, wrapping it in a leather cuff. 

 

"How do you treat people like this?! You're sick." Seongwoo said, attempting to stretch and twist out of his bindings. 

 

"Treat people like what exactly? All you have is a pretty face- and what does this get you? A lavish life in which you get to laze and gossip while living in a beautiful room in the royal palace." The man scoffed,"And the price you pay for this? A few blowjobs and bending over the bed? There are peasants that can only dream of being in your position."

 

Seongwoo glowered,"I do apologize. I suppose it could be worse, I could be you-" A fist grasped Seongwoo's hair, jerking his head up and inducing sharp, stinging pain. The concubine inhaled sharply, blinking tears out of his eyes.

 

"Don't you dare look down on us." The man growled. 

 

The other servant finally spoke up, meekly interjecting, "S-stop. Not the King's..." The angrier of the two, needing no more prompting, released his hold on Seongwoo's hair. He gave the concubine a fierce expression before storming out, leaving the quiet one alone.

 

The mousey servant's pupils shook, after some fidgeting he spoke to Seongwoo,"U-um, if you would be so gracious as to keep silent about this altercation..." He folded his hands together, "Please! Don't tell the King. I'm sorry- W-we're sorry!" The concubine blinked confusedly in response. One servant talks down to him, demanding that he not look down on his status; the other is nearly bowing, begging him not to tell the King in fear that he may face some sort of vengeful punishment. Ong wanted to shout "What am I?!" at the man, wondering why the Kingdom's traditions insisted on distinguishing him from common servants.

 

Ong sighed, "I promise, I will not tell his highness anything. Please, finish your business and leave me." The servant looked grateful, muttering thank you's as he grabbed the last component of the concubine's binds. Seongwoo sighed, once again training his gaze in front of him to avoid the intense awkwardness of his situation. Climbing on the bed, the servant swiftly pulled down Seongwoo's simple silken breeches, exposing his ass. Before Ong could question it, the man pushed his knees further apart, the sound of metal on metal echoing across the King's richly decorated chambers once more. 

 

"I- Wh- What is _this_?" Seongwoo croaked. When he had instinctively moved his legs to close them, he found himself unable to do so. 

 

"Thank you for your patience!" The servant responded, ignoring the question. He hopped off the King's bed, giving a quick bow before departing. The King's door closed heavily behind the man, leaving Ong immensely frustrated. He wondered if he had bumped something and moved to adjust his legs again, once again barred from doing so by something. Huffing, the concubine lifted his head to glance over his shoulder.

 

Suddenly, he came to the appalling realization as to what the thick, leather cuffs squeezing his thighs were truly for. 

 

Seongwoo had been bound to the bed frame via chains attached to cuffs around his wrists, ankles, and neck. Two leather cuffs collared his thighs, and attached between those was a long, metal bar.

 

He couldn't close his even if he wanted to.

 

Disgust and humiliation washed over him in a wave of stinging, clasping his throat and hazing his vision momentarily. The concubine blinked furiously in objection to the fresh tears that threatened to drop from his eyes. He was in disbelief. There he stood on all fours, bare flesh exposed, ass and cock hanging out, restrained for the King's pleasure.  Never in his life had he felt so vulnerable as he did in that moment.

 

* * *

 

_"Clink!"_

 

_"Clang!"_

 

Seongwoo heard the heavy doors of the King’s chambers open slowly. Goosebumps pricked the concubine’s porcelain skin, and he swallowed hard. He squeezed his eyes shut, thinking, perhaps if he kept them shut long enough he would wake up from the nightmare his life had turned into; unfortunately, the only result it yielded was bright, dancing lights in his vision.

 

The heavy wooden door screeched once more and closed with a low clunking noise that echoed across the room. Seongwoo could hear steps slowly approaching, each one ringing out more loudly as they closed the distance. Breathing became increasingly challenging for the concubine, and spots began dancing in his vision. The King grew nearer, mere steps away, and Seongwoo did everything in his power to remain calm and conscious. He endeavored to fill his mind with thoughts of anything other than the present situation, to no avail.

 

The steps stopped and so did Seongwoo’s breath momentarily. Chalking up the shivers running down his body to the cold room, he willed his face to relax, to show a more serene expression. Even though he feared for his life, he dared not show an ounce of fear or yielding to the King.

 

He refused to.

 

Seongwoo waited with dread for his painful fate. His stomach knotted in anticipatory anguish, and his body surely glowed with the sheen of nervous sweat. The room was quiet, impossibly so. The beating of his heart and his own shaking breaths sounded uproarious in comparison to the silence that hung in the air. The concubine pondered if waiting was part of the King’s game, if he enjoyed utilizing the element of surprise on his victims. He heard a sigh next to him, and it set every fiber of his being on edge. He feared trying to look the man in the eye would result in a complete loss of composure.

 

The concubine began to grow impatient. Thoughts began seeping into his mind such as possibilities of nefarious deeds that the King had planned on doing to him. He could feel the other man’s gaze on him, heavy, probably evaluating him like some kind of exotic prize animal. He wanted to yell at the other man, “Just get it over with!”, but tactfully refrained from doing so.

 

A hand brushed the concubine’s thigh for an instant, and his blood chilled. His head whipped back to look over his shoulder, eyes wide with terror.

 

 _"Clink_. _Clink_."

 

Seongwoo’s brows furrowed in bafflement. His mouth opened to say something, but he closed it, completely at a loss for words at the situation. The metal buckles of his bindings clinked as King Kang Daniel wordlessly unbuckled the leather straps around his thighs, the metal bar dropping to the bed. The concubine feared that the King had more perverse plans than he could have envisioned; but, when the noble moved to unbuckle his ankle, it puzzled him more. His highness scooted to the other side of the bed, repeating the process for the other leg until both of the concubine's legs were completely free.

 

Thoughts raced through Seongwoo’s head, each one imagining something more depraved than the last. He struggled to maintain steady breathing through it, his eyes following the King’s every move. Without giving the concubine so much as a glance, King Daniel undid his gift’s wrist bindings.

 

Finally, his royal highness spoke. He did not bark a command nor did he make a lewd comment. He merely asked, softly, “You can undo the other one, right?”  Seongwoo stared, mouth ajar but unable to articulate a response.

 

“Wait.” The King said. “You may not even understand what I am saying…” He looked pointedly at Seongwoo’s other hand, gesturing for him to bring it closer. Seongwoo obliged, holding his hand out apprehensively. He watched closely as King Daniel unbuckled his last binding.

 

“Um…” The King muttered, his eyes darting about awkwardly. Seongwoo still suspected that there had to be some sort of deception at play. He refused to believe the King would simply let him go without breaking in his new toy.

 

“Thank you,” Escaped Seongwoo’s lips before he could stop it. He quickly clamped his mouth shut and prayed that the man didn’t punish him severely for speaking out of turn.

 

“Oh, you can understand me?” The King’s eyebrows perked up, he sounded rather relieved,” Can you speak as well?”

 

“Yes.” The concubine replied. He watched King Daniel closely, trying to ready himself for any abrupt changes of heart or twists of fate.

 

“Ah, good…” The King said. “I, um- You are free to return to your quarters.”

 

Seongwoo looked at his royal highness blankly. He determined that he had just experienced a hallucination and decided it best not to move until the vision passed.

 

“I-Is that okay?” The King asked, his eyes flitting about awkwardly.

 

“You want me to leave, your highness?” Seongwoo asked, confused.

 

“W-Well, um,” The King’s expression appeared to be one of extreme discomfort. He pressed his lips together, “It is late. I want to go to bed. I find it easier to sleep without men chained to my bed. It’s a personal preference.”

 

Seongwoo nearly laughed at the man’s joke, but events of his day cloaked everything that had happened in an immensely stressful aura. The concubine nodded, pulling up his breeches and scooting toward the edge of the bed. He waited for some kind of retaliation, a revelation of trickery, anything to confirm his suspicions, really. He shuffled to the edge of the bed and slid off.

 

“Wait,” The King said as Seongwoo started his walk toward his quarters. The prisoner tensed up, turning around and cocking an inquisitive eyebrow at his new master.

 

“Y-yes?” He murmured, his heart rate increasing rapidly. He clenched his fists and tried to run through possible scenarios and escape routes in his head.

 

“Your face…” The King paced toward his concubine, his head tilting and eyes narrowing. Seongwoo waited for harm to come his way, it felt inevitable at that point. A finger ghosted down the concubine’s cheek, and causing a shiver to run down his entire body.

 

“Y-yes?” Seongwoo said strainedly. King Daniel appeared to contemplate something before his plush lips parted again to speak. The concubine braced himself.

 

“These birthmarks… They look like a cluster of stars.”

 

Seongwoo released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Realizing he wasn’t in the clear, he quickly straightened up once more, asking, “Is that… Okay, m-master?” In all honesty he had no idea what kind of response the declaration warranted. He’d gotten such statements made about his face before, but never any from a tyrannous conqueror who used humans as sexual playthings.

 

The noble chuckled, “Yeah, I- Apologies. Um…” Seongwoo thought it fascinating that such an apparently shy human being managed to command respect in the royal court.  “Please, get rest. Ha Sungwoon, my advisor’s ward, shall have more to show you tomorrow.” The concubine nodded wordlessly in response. He eagerly strode toward the door to his chambers in the corner of the room.

 

“It’s a good thing!” The King shouted to Seongwoo. Immediately, Seongwoo halted, turning to give the King yet another perplexed expression.

 

“The cluster of stars on your face, I mean.” The King said. “You asked if it was okay, but I never answered... They’re becoming.”

 

Acute embarrassment pricked the concubine’s cheeks, tinting them pink. He had spent hours mentally preparing himself for salacious atrocities, but upon hearing a mere compliment his mind completely froze up.

 

“Th-Thank you.” Seongwoo sputtered out, red-faced, “Um, good night, your highness.”

 

“Good night, um… Oh- I- I don’t know your name. How embarrassing…”

 

“I assume it is allowed that you call me whatever you wish.” The concubine replied, biting his lip nervously, “However... My name is Seongwoo, your highness.” Introducing himself to the King felt immeasurably strange to the concubine.

 

“I shall call you by your name then. Good night, Seongwoo.” The King said after him.

 

Seongwoo nodded, muttering a polite “Good night” once more before fleeing to his bedroom. When the door finally closed behind him, he launched himself face first into his plush, richly furnished bed. Even though he knew he ought to feel relief, Seongwoo still felt entirely unsettled. Among the hoard of nerves buzzing about inside of him, only one prevailing thought remained clear in his head:

 

_“What just happened?”_


	5. Captivity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 5 WARNING(s): N/A

Seongwoo tossed once more, his stomach flipping around inside him. Despite his exhaustion, he’d barely managed to get a wink of sleep. The past week of his life had gone drastically different than he would have thought, to say the least. When he started his attempt at sleep the the flames in his fireplace blazed; now they'd receded into a mere pile of crackling embers. Accepting defeat, he sat up, swinging his legs over the side of his grandiose bed and hopping down.

 

The single candle lighting up his room cast long shadows across the wall as Seongwoo made his way toward the door. He tiptoed, recalling Sungwoon’s remark about the King controlling the locks. Realistically, Seongwoo knew the thought of actually sneaking up on the King, killing him, and making a dashing escape was beyond asinine. However, it didn’t stop him from playing the scenario through his head over and over again. He considered that it may have been his best option: captive in life but at least free in death, having made his mark.

 

“It’s probably locked…” Ong whispered to the furniture in his otherwise empty bedroom. Gingerly, he felt around for whatever mystical latch or keyhole Sungwoon had opened the door with earlier. The panel looked just like any other part of the wall; the only indicator of a passage was the slight, cool draft leaking through the cracks in the wall.

  
“ _ Squeaaaaak _ .”

 

Without meaning to, Seongwoo had managed to open the strange door. He covered his mouth to suppress the noise of surprise that had nearly escaped his throat. Quirking an eyebrow, he slowly opened the door further, just so he could see through a crack. Not much was visible through the tiny crack, but he could see flickering candlelight reflected off of the surface of the tiled floor. Nothing appeared to be stirring.

 

“Trusting sap,” Ong muttered to himself, glancing around his own room. He swallowed hard, his heart rate quickening. Never in his life did he think himself the type to resort to such drastic measures, but necessity warranted such measures. It wasn't as if the action had been premeditated, but when opportunity had graced him with such a chance he thought it a waste to pass it up. After scanning his room, he grabbed the hefty candlestick off of his bedside table. His heart pounded as he tiptoed toward the open door.

 

The concubine gingerly opened the cracked door further, just enough to slip his slender body through, and entered the King’s quarters. The lone source of light in his highness’s bedroom was the crackling fireplace; the flickering orange light cast long, dark shadows across the large space. The warped, shady forms stretching across the floor gave the room a nightmarish quality.

Seongwoo could feel his body shiver with more than cold, but he pressed on regardless. The King’s bed grew closer and closer as Ong silently paced toward the massive piece of furniture. The closer he got, the more he could hear the noises coming out of the King’s sleeping form. The man seemed to mutter under his breath, occasionally striking acute fear in the invading concubine. He would pause, praying that he hadn't been caught, only to realize that his highness had in fact remained asleep. Terrified, he approached the King’s bedside.

In spite of all the noise, King Daniel was undeniably unconscious; his body sprawled out across the large mattress. Anxiety made breathing difficult, but Seongwoo endured it. The prospect of achieving his goal with such ease was entirely too enticing for him to pass up. He knew that there may never be such a perfect opportunity to strike again. Seongwoo clumsily climbed up onto the massive bed, shuffling over to the King’s spread out figure and straddling him. Swallowing nervously, Ong took the bulky candleholder in both of his hands, lifting it high above his head. He tried to keep his eyes focused on a spot on the of the King’s head, but found himself quickly distracted. 

Daniel looked like a child. He had tightly wrapped himself up in his lush blankets and chattered away, completely unaware of the interferences of the outside world. His previously perfect hair had developed a number of distinctive cowlicks, sticking out almost comically. His chest rose and fell with the peaceful rhythm only deep, peaceful sleep could conduct. He looked incredibly innocent as he lay in dreamland.

Seongwoo’s heart beat so rapidly, he feared the other would wake up from the noise of it. He flinched, unable to peel his eyes away from the King’s docile, sleeping body. 

 

Just one well placed strike would end it all. 

The concubine sat there, atop the King, ready to bash in his head, for what felt like years. He repeated the same reassurances over and over in his head: how easy it would be, how he could dash away without a soul noticing, how the man deserved whatever ill fate befalled him. Despite them, he couldn’t move. He remained completely and utterly frozen atop his detestable foe. His eyes kept tracing over the image before him, burning it into his head. Eyes closed or open, it didn’t matter, the the king’s pure, unconscious form permeated his thoughts.

Tears stung Seongwoo’s eyes when seconds turned into minutes, and the singular minutes started skewing closer to a dozen. He shuddered, begging himself to take the hit. There laid everything he hated, the man who had orchestrated the eventual ruin of his life, his downfall. All he needed to do was to let down the candlestick with all the force he could muster and end it once and for all. Any consequential events were mere trifles in comparison to the victory that would be had. 

When his hands fell to his side limply, a sickening realization came to him in that moment.

Seongwoo realized how trapped he truly was. 

The King’s life had been served to him on a silver platter, yet he couldn’t summon the strength to commit to cold blooded murder. Even if it meant freedom, the thought of ending the King’s life was genuinely unfathomable to him. He felt a plethora of emotions well up in his chest, none of which prevailed 

His halt was not due to a lack of physical capabilities. Woefully, a vile ache began spreading in his chest as he considered doing the deed. An ache he prayed would come to pass in the soon future. Defeated by his own reservations, Seongwoo dropped the candlestick, accepting that he would spend the night tossing and turning in his bed. He would likely replay the memory over and over in his head until he passed out.

Just as Seongwoo resignedly began making moves to sneak back, the forces of fate and gravity betrayed him in a heinous way. The candlestick rolled off of the bed, colliding with shining marble tile and causing a loud thud to erupt in the still room. 

Seongwoo froze. 

Daniel stirred, and momentarily Seongwoo held onto the hope that he would merely remain sound asleep. In an awful turn of luck, the King shockingly woke up. He blinked, yawning and rubbing his eyes. He squinted at Seongwoo who was still straddling him. The concubine’s heart pounded, and his vision began to swim, hazed by nerves. He felt as if he'd flown too close to the sun and would soon come crashing down to Earth.

Still groggy, Daniel slurred, “What’re you doing here?”

Seongwoo felt faint; drawing on his flair for the dramatic, he shakily cobbled together an answer, “I-I um, I was cold in my bed alone, y-your grace.” He swallowed nervously.

Daniel, still more asleep than awake, seemed to give no consideration to the statement whatsoever. He clumsily yanked down his blanket and gave Seongwoo a full view of his half-dressed body. The flickering light of his fireplace delicately traced the lines of his musculature, and despite everything Seongwoo's eyes lingered a few moments. His shame burned more intensely than before and he tore his gaze away.

“Sleep with me,” The King muttered. Seongwoo wasn’t sure whether or not the statement was an invitation or a command, so he obliged for the sake of safety. He joined the King under the blankets, immediately feeling radiating warmth wrap around him.

“You feel cold,” Daniel mumbled, hugging Seongwoo’s slender body closer to his own. Within seconds, the King's body went limp and he fell back asleep, apparently content. Seongwoo froze, at a loss for thought in light of his new predicament. The phrase “sleeping with the enemy” had always been a colloquialism, but for the first time he experienced it literally.

Though his mind screamed resistance, soon a heavy veil of fatigue cloaked itself over the trapped concubine. The sweltering heat coming off of the King's body cloaked his mind in a drowsy haze. Dizzying thoughts and recollections of the day’s events whirred in his mind, but eventually even his most acute concerns dimmed. When his last fleeting thought dissolved into nothingness, he, too, faded into a still, dreamless sleep.


	6. About The Adviser and His Ward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 6 WARNING(s): NSFW, explicit sexual content

Ha Sungwoon sat in the corner of his room in his favorite reading spot, a nook in the window. Just beyond the glass of the wide window, the night air enveloped the gardens in a quiet calm. Even though the days grew longer, winter had yet to relinquish its grasp over the Kingdom in its entirety. In the small hours of the night, one could see the remnants of crystallized frost stubbornly clinging to the foliage. It would disappear before the sun could even complete its ascent above the horizon each morning, leaving no trace of winter’s desperation. Despite the brisk air seeping through his window, Sungwoon found the veil of serenity provided by the cool nights incredibly soothing. The cold merely gave him an excuse to pull his blanket even more tightly around his shoulders; plus, the pops of wood in his fireplace made for calming background noise.

 

“ _ Knock. Knock _ .” A light rapping on the door interrupted the concubine’s reading, followed by the entrance of a messenger. Sungwoon shucked the blanket from his shoulders and paced toward his door to meet the man. 

 

“A note for Ha Sungwoon.” He said, extending a sealed letter to Sungwoon.

 

“Thank you.” The concubine replied, dismissing the man. He inspected the red wax seal, noting the familiar crest: a fox. Clicking his tongue, he opened up the letter, quite sure he’d already deduced its contents.

 

_ The Duke arrives tomorrow. _

 

_ It is likely there will be festivities. _

 

_ Be prepared. _

 

_ See you soon, old friend. _

 

_ B _

 

Sungwoon groaned. The second he saw the Duke’s crest he’d figured it would have been something along those lines. The concubine had no particular grudge against that Duke, but adding his arrival on top of the other things that had recently risen in Sungwoon’s life vexed him. He appreciated the courtesy that the Duke’s concubine had taken to send a messenger ahead of time, the warning was nice. Even if the whole affair would ultimately make Sungwoon’s life more difficult. At the very least, the concubine could never complain that castle life bored him.

 

The concubine sighed, looking out his window once more. Judging by how brightly the moon’s light shone down on the world outside, Sungwoon concluded that it was about time he get ready to go to sleep. 

 

After dressing for bed, he shed his specs and took a seat at his dressing table. The man had a particular routine he took before sleeping, and that night, despite the day’s difficulties, would be no different. He started by washing his face with the bowl of water set aside and gently patting it down. He looked at the various bottles and jars of oils, poultices, and concoctions he’d gathered to care for his complexion and began putting them on in an orderly fashion. 

 

Sungwoon rubbed circles in his cheeks, willing the fragrant oils he’d applied to his face to sink into his skin. Gazing at his reflection in the looking glass, he noted that the stress of his routine’s change-up would probably show in the coming days. He pouted at the reflection looking back at him from the carved oak vanity his Master had gifted him.

 

Though he had many things occupying his day, Sungwoon always liked to allocate some downtime to his hobby: skincare. People in the castle constantly cooed over the concubine’s fair, glowing complexion. He took pride in how advanced he had become in his organic tinkering. He tried his best to relax, wrapped in his most comfortable sleeping clothes while the soft sound of his fireplace crackling filled his ear. He decided that if he broke out due to the annoyance, Seongwoo would have hell to pay.

 

_ “Knock! Knock!” _

 

Sungwoon didn’t bother turning around, he knew the knock coming from the other side of his wall was a courtesy. A panel in the wall beside his bookshelf swung open, a slender figure standing at the threshold.

 

“Good evening, Master.” Sungwoon said in a singsong tone. He eagerly reached for a small jar on his dressing table, removing the cork lid. 

 

“Master?” The man chuckled, approaching Sungwoon’s vanity. The concubine’s master grinned at his ward in the mirror, nose scrunching. “What did I tell you about calling me that in private?”

 

“Sorry, habit.” Sungwoon smiled widely. Even after years as Jisung’s concubine, Sungwoon still felt happy butterflies flutter in his chest when he felt the other’s arms around him. “Good evening, my sweet.”

 

“That’s more like it.” Jisung said, planting a kiss on top of Sungwoon’s head. He tilted an eyebrow, looking down at the spread of jars and bowls on the concubine’s vanity. “Experimenting again?”

 

“Maybe.” Sungwoon replied. He scooted over on his bench, patting a small spot next to him to urge Jisung to take a seat. The older man giddily took his place next to Sungwoon, eyes twinkling as he listened to the other muse aloud.

 

“...Now this one,” Sungwoon said, “This one I’m most excited about.” He slid the jar he had opened closer to Jisung.

 

The other narrowed his eyes, “What on earth is this concoction? It smells very… Sweet?”

 

Sungwoon reached his hand in, taking out something slimy and dark, “Well, if you must know, it is seaweed.”

 

Jisung eyes widened at the terrifying, dripping strip of seaweed dangling from Sungwoon’s fingers, “You’re not going to eat it, are you? I mean… Is it edible in this state?”

 

Sungwoon shook his head, “No, silly! Here, you just-” He pressed the strip of seaweed on his face, across his nose and cheeks, “-You apply it directly to your face and let it sit for about a quarter of an hour.”

 

“You’re just slapping slimy seaweed on your skin? Wait- how did you even get seaweed with how strained trade is by the sea lately?”

 

“It wasn’t easy getting my hands on this, I had to trade some good creams and a couple of secrets. But I think it’s worth it! It is not just seaweed, I’ve soaked it in a mixture of rosewater, salts, and molasses. For your information, seaweed has great healing properties!”

 

Jisung laughed, “I trust your judgement my little fairy, but,” He took Sungwoon by the tip of his chin, turning his head to face him, “You look ridiculous with seaweed stuck across your face. Like you got dragged out of the water after drowning.” He said jokingly.

 

“Do I?” Sungwoon raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk spreading across his lips. He reached into the jar, fishing out another strip of seaweed. Chuckling, he shook it in front of Jisung’s face, “Perhaps you would like to try it for yourself?”

 

“Me? Oh, no. No!” Jisung said, shrinking away from the seaweed as Sungwoon held it closer and closer. The concubine jolted forward, causing Jisung to jump backwards reflexively and nearly tumble down to the cold tile ground. “No!” Jisung whined, bursting up from his seat and running toward the bed. Sungwoon cackled, chasing after the older man with the acutely threatening seaweed in question. Their laughter echoed off the ceiling as the two played cat and mouse, Sungwoon pursuing as Jisung ducked behind the bed. When he had thought he was in the clear, Jisung hopped onto Sungwoon’s bed, hoping to make it across, however he stumbled falling face first into a heap of cushions. Sungwoon seized his opportunity, joining Jisung on the bed and straddling him. 

 

“No!” Jisung continued to whine animatedly, thrashing about. 

 

“Yes!” Sungwoon shouted back, grabbing Jisung by the shoulder to turn him over. After some resistance, the concubine succeeded, he triumphantly slapped the seaweed onto Jisung’s face, throwing his hands up in victory.

 

Soon, silence enveloped the room as the two came down from the dizzying high of laughter and playing.

 

Sungwoon, head still fuzzy with glee, drank in the sight of the man beneath him. Jisung looked incredibly darling to him with his hair tousled, eyes wrinkled as he smiled. Even with a block of seaweed haphazardly sticking to his cheek, he looked stunning in the concubine’s eyes.

 

“ _ What _ ?” Jisung said, wriggling in embarrassment from the attention.

 

“Nothing.” Sungwoon replied. He planted his hands on each side of Jisung’s shoulders, lowering himself to Jisung. “Nothing at all.” He whispered before closing the gap between their lips. 

 

“Hey!” Jisung exclaimed when their lips separated, “You’ve got something on your face.” He giggled, peeling the seaweed off of Sungwoon’s face and his own and throwing it away carelessly. “Alright, carry on.”

 

“Yes,  _ Master _ .” Sungoon snarked, kissing the advisor once more. Their kisses started gently, lips warming up to each other, slowly inviting one another to open up. Jisung’s hands took hold of Sungwoon’s cotton shirt, tugging it to bring the concubine’s body flush to his. Their legs tangled, as they slotted into one another like puzzle pieces.

 

While propped up on one elbow, Sungwoon used his other hand enthusiastically to explore the other’s body. He felt excitement tickle within him, tiny sparks flaring up in his stomach with each bit of skin his fingers touched. Their kiss deepened, the concubine opening his Master’s mouth with his tongue and prodding. He could feel Jisung sigh contentedly beneath him, and the advisor seemed to melt into the concubine’s touch. Jisung’s fingers drifted down to the concubine’s sides, dipping beneath his shirt. The advisor pulled Sungwoon closer, grasping greedily at the warmth of his bare skin.

 

The advisor’s touch left Sungwoon breathless, wanting more. Pressure starting to build inside him, Sungwoon began kissing more roughly, prodding between the other’s lips, teeth clashing with teeth, tongue with tongue. Jisung whined beneath him. The concubine thought the tone sweeter than any song he had ever heard. 

 

Sungwoon typically fancied himself the type of person who liked to be in control. He considered himself composed and put together. Any outsider would likely agree with such a consideration. He’d even overheard people gossiping about him, wondering how such a proper individual could possibly provide the service rendered by a concubine.

 

If only they knew the effect Jisung had on Ha Sungwoon.

 

Hearing Jisung’s utterances set Sungwoon’s heart on fire. His breath hitched for a slight instant and he separated, just briefly, to get another look at the man beneath him. His plush lips were swollen from kissing and his cheeks had taken on a pink color. Something in the back of the concubine’s mind told him that soon, things would change. He didn’t know when, he didn’t know how, but a nagging suspicion told him that things were going to change, that something would happen. He endeavored to burn the beautiful image of Jisung into his mind together, should such an occasion rise.

 

“Sungwoon,” Jisung said breathily, pouting, “You’re staring again.”

 

The concubine smiled, “Sorry. I find it difficult to tear my eyes away from you.” He pressed a sweet kiss on Jisung’s cheek.

 

Then another.

 

His lips trailed kisses across his Master’s cheek toward his jawline. When he nipped at the other’s earlobe, Jisung let out a small gasp and squirmed beneath the concubine. Sungwoon took Jisung’s earlobe between his lips again, grinding his hips slowly against the other’s. He could feel Jisung’s whole body respond beneath him, the advisor’s hips rose to meet his eagerly, the sound of another gasp filling Sungwoon’s ears. Their simple sleeping clothes did absolutely nothing to conceal the hardness they harbored for one another.

 

Sungwoon let his lips trail further down Jisung’s neck, taking more liberties with roughness. Settling just beneath the advisor’s collarbone, the concubine bit down, sucking on fair, supple skin to leave his mark. In no universe could he lay any legitimate claim to Jisung. Only in fleeting marks on the skin could his true affections be displayed. So he persisted, leaving marks across his Master, fleeting symbols of his truth.

 

The concubine’s hands greedily grabbed and groped Jisung’s body, patience beginning to wear. One hand clasped the advisor’s ass, using it to push their bodies even more close together, deliberately brushing their stiff cocks against one another. Sungwoon’s other hand gipped Jisung’s hair, tilting his head to give him even more access to his bruised neck and shoulders. 

 

Jisung nearly went slack, yielding to the man above him. Small whines escaped along with his gasps as he gave himself over to Sungwoon. 

 

Without words, he said, “Take me. Take all of me.”

 

After staining Jisung’s porcelain complexion with nearly a dozen new bruises, Sungwoon’s patience had dissipated. He sat up to tear his shirt and breeches off, and Jisung followed. After taking pause to shed their clothing, the two approached one another once more with a renewed reverence toward one another. Jisung cupped Sungwoon’s face in his hands, locking his eyes with his lover’s. He lowered his head to rest on the concubine’s forehead and remained there for a few moments.

 

Devout as ever, Sungwoon showed his admiration in a different manner. He gripped Jisung by the ass, pulling his body flush once more. Jisung gasped as he felt the concubine’s deft fingers dip between his cheeks, teasingly brushing his entrance. The concubine smirked and smothered the advisor’s noises with his own lips. He teased at the other’s entrance, prodding the tight ring of muscle. The concubine gave his lover a quick peck before striding to his vanity. He grabbed a small bottle off of it and returned to his bed, pouring the bottle’s contents over his fingers.

 

The concubine continued ravishing his Master, trailing kisses down Jisung’s neck. Dipping a finger inside, a twinge of satisfaction jolted through him as he heard the advisor’s whine in response. Jisung alternated between gripping Sungwoon’s hair to gripping his bed linens. His lips were parted and tiny sounds dribbled out from between them.

 

Sungwoon’s finger steadily plunged in and out of Jisung, increasing in pressure and depth with time. He soothed his fussy lover with soft kisses as he added an additional finger and opened the man up more and more. His lips quickly responded to any discomforts Jisung aired, softly kissing along his collarbone, at the crook of his neck, or lapping at his earlobe. He moved his free hand to stroke Jisung’s cock which was slick with precome. When his slick fingers slid in and out of Jisung with ease, Sungwoon knew he was ready.

 

Positioning himself at Jisung’s entrance, Sungwoon smashed their lips together, stifling the other’s cry as he pushed inside of him. The concubine felt goosebumps rise on his skin as he breached his Master’s entrance. Wet warmth wrapped around his swollen cock as he eased his length in. He nuzzled the man beneath him as he writhed, acclimating himself to the sensation of fullness.

 

If he had more patience, Sungwoon would have savored Jisung’s gorgeousness once more, no doubt noting the glow of his skin in the light of the fireplace or the beauty in his lustful gaze. However, the heat coiling in Sungwoon demanded too much of him, driving him to impatiently rock his hips. 

 

“S-Sungwoon-ah-” Jisung’s breath hitched, his fingers gripping the skin of Sungwoon’s back tightly. Sungwoon bit his lip before pressing them against Jisung’s once more.

 

Jisung wrapped his body around Sungwoon, hooking his legs around the other’s hips as he started moving more quickly, more roughly. He gasped for air, throwing his head back into the sheets as Sungwoon’s hips met his with a rushed rhythm. Jisung’s reservations dissolved, and moan after moan began leaving his lips as his body soon adjusted to Sungwoon’s presence. The advisor did everything he could to get closer to Sungwoon, clinging to his partner, willing every iota of their bodies to meld and mesh as one. 

 

The smacking of flesh on flesh filled the room, echoing above the crackling of the fireplace and even Jisung’s whines. Burying his face in the crook of the other’s neck, Sungwoon’s moans grew louder. The concubine’s thrusts grew more frantic and forceful as he felt the heat in his gut approach a point of no return. With the the pressure inside him ever swelling, stars began dotting Sungwoon’s vision.

 

“Darling…” Sungwoon moaned breathlessly into Jisung’s neck. In response, Jisung yanked Sungwoon by his hair, crashing their lips together once more. With his other hand, he reached between the two and stroked his cock. The advisor shifted and shuddered around the concubine, driving him to the brink. The two remained twisted together as they kissed passionately.

 

Sungwoon’s pace no longer appears to have rhyme nor reason. He pounded into Jisung, sloppily kissing his Master and struggling to stop himself from toppling over the edge. Jisung whimpered into their kiss, his own hand wet with precome. 

 

“Mn- Sungwoon-!” Jisung’s free hand shot to the sheets, gripping them with white knuckles. He quaked, hot liquid spilling out onto his stomach and fingers. Feeling his partner quiver beneath him proved too much for Sungwoon’s resolve. After building and building, the pressure finally became too much to handle and boiled over completely.  The concubine gasped, biting down on Jisung’s shoulder as his cock twitched inside him, coming. Sungwoon caught himself before he completely collapsed on his master and made a massive mess.

 

The two spent minutes catching their breath.

 

When their heartbeats finally stabilized, Sungwoon got off of Jisung. He planted a kiss on his Master’s cheek before sauntering to his bedside chest to grab some linens. After a few moments the concubine returned with a handkerchief in hand, and he began wiping the mess off of his Master.

 

Jisung, sighed, “Sungwoon, you didn’t tell me about that…”

 

“About what?” Sungwoon asked, patting himself off with the woven fabric.

 

“About the aphrodisiac qualities of seaweed.” Jisung said, a small grin spreading across his puffy, pink lips.

 

Sungwoon laughed, rolling his eyes, “Very funny. You mock me, but I bet your skin feels very smooth right now.”

 

“You’re not wrong, however I believe there may be some other contributing factors to it’s… Elasticity.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“You know, I always thought you were a genius of sorts when it came to skin concoctions,” Jisung said, sitting up, “But, looking at you, perhaps the secret to glowing skin isn’t some poultice or oil…”

  
“And what do you think it might be, then?”

 

Jisung got up on his knees, shuffling to meet Sungwoon’s gaze closely, “Great sex with a wonderful, brilliant man. Obviously.” He smirked.

 

Sungwoon raised his eyebrows animatedly, responding, “Well, if I ever have great sex with a brilliant man, I’ll report back to you on how it affects my complexio-” A pillow to the face swiftly cut off Sungwoon’s sarcastic remark, eliciting a shrill laugh from the concubine. “Rude!” He protested, ready to pick one up himself to retaliate.

 

With a wide, toothy smile lighting up his face, Jisung merely said, “Let’s sleep in my room tonight,” Before scurrying off through the doorway in Sungwoon’s wall. Sungwoon grabbed a pillow, pursuing his Master hurriedly.


	7. A New Lifestyle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 7 WARNING(s): mild descriptions of nudity

A sliver of orange sunlight blinded Seongwoo’s blinking eyes as he woke up. He sat up on his elbows and his mouth fell open. His sleep hazed eyes took in his surroundings and his brain straggled along, processing the situation. Trickles of light leaked through gaps in the curtains of the massive room, but they did little to lend the heavy-eyed concubine much aid in assessing his current location.

 

Something small seemed to shift around him, causing alarm. Jolting upward, Seongwoo gasped, head frantically darting around toward the movement. He squinted in the dimness and his heart beat faster. The small form shifted again, and this time Seongwoo could make out a silhouette. He leaned closer, inspecting what appeared to be a small cushion. A small, moving cushion. Suddenly, two small legs jutted out from the cushion, and the thing lifted it’s but, a tail springing up.

 

Seongwoo discovered that the cushion was not a cushion at all, but a cat. The concubine gasped, temporarily smitten with the creature. The silhouette began sauntering off, but the squeak from the bedroom’s door prompted the small animal to bolt. Seongwoo’s head whipped in the direction of the creaking door frame.

 

Instinctively, the concubine tried to get up, but another obstacle presented itself. King Daniel slept soundly next to him, one arm looped around Seongwoo’s waist. Seongwoo glared at the sleeping royal as if it would rouse him from his peaceful rest. It did not. The concubine thought it almost impressive that on a bed the size of a small house the man still managed to invade someone else’s personal space.

 

The King’s door finally opened enough to reveal someone’s head poking in.

 

“There you are.” A familiar voice said. Though he couldn’t see the man all that well, after his previous day, Seongwoo couldn’t mistake Ha Sungwoon’s voice if he wanted to. Sungwoon let himself in, closing the beautifully carved door behind him. Seongwoo held his finger to his lips, urging Sungwoon to shush with wide eyes.

 

Sungwoon laughed, “Oh, you needn’t worry about him. The King could sleep through the rapture.” The short man looked Seongwoo up and down, an impish grin spreading across his lips. “Long night, hm, Seongwoo? I’ll admit, I’m surprised. I didn’t think you’d bend over so readil-”

 

“I- No, no, _no_. It’s not like that! I did no such… B-bending over.” Seongwoo sputtered out in protest and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

 

Seongwoo’s guide laughed shrilly, “Imagine that! A concubine blushing at the mention of sleeping with his Master. As adorable as I find your coy act, there is still much for you to see, and people for you to properly meet.”

 

“I, Wh-” Seongwoo nearly said, “What about the King”, but stopped himself after realizing how odd the consideration seemed. “Y-you said yesterday I shall have a bath, right? Am I to…”

 

Sungwoon replied, “Well if you stop idling, I can show you.”

 

* * *

 

Despite being up and about, Seongwoo felt no more awake than he did trapped beneath the King’s arm. He had rushedly dressed in clothes that’d been sitting in the wardrobe of his room. After throwing on the strange, new clothes, Sungwoon had urged him to follow him through more castle corridors until they’d arrived at what seemed to be their destination.

 

Whatever wing of the castle Sungwoon had led Ong too looked much different than what he had seen prior. The two crossed through a door, and the temperature seemed to double. No longer were the walls adorned with painted wallpaper, but tiny, colored tiles. The mosaic tiles formed a geometric pattern leading to a door at the end of the hallway.

 

Seongwoo trailed Sungwoon’s swift steps, stopping behind him at the mysterious, heavy looking door. When the advisor’s concubine swung the door open, a gust of hot, humid air blew past the two. The strong smell of mint and rosemary penetrated the concubine’s nose, clearing both his sinuses and his hazy mind. Seongwoo blinked confusedly, looking into a place that appeared to be out of an adventurer’s travel journal.

 

Numerous round windows dotted a high, domed ceiling that connected to the floor with grand pillars. Along the perimeter of the vast space were small alcoves outfitted with stone perches, braziers, and cushions. Small brass lanterns were scattered throughout the space, illuminating the small corners with the warm glow of flames. Sitting in the middle of the room, directly beneath the ceiling’s dome, was the focal point of the room. Sparkling tiles framed a mirroresque pool of water. Beneath its surface one could see beautiful patterns shaped by colored glass.

 

“Wh- What is this place?” Seongwoo asked, stepping in slowly. Not two steps in he already felt sweat form on his brow. Sungwoon opened his mouth to answer, but a loud noise from behind the two cut off the impending lecture.

 

“Last one there gives everyone else massages!” A holler bounced loudly down the tiled hallway.

 

“No fair, your legs are longer than a tree trunk!” Another shout rang out. A few other riotous yells joined the other two, resulting in an echoey cacophony of jumbled noise. Seongwoo and Sungwoon had to rapidly press themselves against the wall to avoid a full on collision with the mess of moving limbs that ran in their direction.

 

Before he could so much as blink, Seongwoo heard consecutive splashes, even feeling a few drops spray him from the doorway. He glanced at the now rippling pool, eyes widening and mouth dropping open in shock. His head jerked back and he ducked behind the door frame.

 

Stuttering, he labored to speak, “I- I- Th-th-they’re naked. They just took their clothes off and- and- and they’re naked.” He said, ears turning red from sheer mortification.

 

“As people typically are when they bathe. Where you come from do you bathe with clothes on?” Sungwoon said with a chuckle.

 

“B-but I,” He peeked into the bath once more, “Do I have to?”

 

Sungwoon rolled his eyes, yanking Seongwoo’s arm, “Do you know how much time it would take the servants to draw a bath for every individual concubine in this castle? Just because you are the King’s ward does not mean you shall get extra special treatment at your whim. Anyways, you ought to be honored to have such beautiful, exotic accommodations. This is not a place for commoners or even nobles to fraternize.”

 

Seongwoo groaned.

 

The advisor’s concubine rolled his eyes, stepping into the steamy tiled room, “Well, you’re free to join us when you are done cowering at the sight of the human body- though, I do urge to hurry. We don’t have all day.” Seongwoo hesitantly watched the other shed layer after layer until he was down to just his breeches. Uncomfortable, the concubine squeezed his eyes shut once more.

 

After a few minutes, the loud laughter and conversation echoing out into the hall proved too distracting to Seongwoo. Hesitantly, he peeked once more, this time covering his eyes to obscure the bulk of his view. He closed the door behind him and started fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

 

The concubine quickly shrugged off his doublet while keeping his gaze downcast; he repeated the motion with his linen shirt, shucking it quickly. Even though everyone sounded engaged with one another, Seongwoo couldn’t help but feel as if everybody was watching him. He took a deep breath and yanked his pants down in one final, swift motion.

 

Immediately, the concubine’s hand shot down to cover his crotch, and he timidly approached the center of the room. His other hand remained ready at eye level to shield his view from anything he found too scandalous. Young men lazed and luxuriated both inside and around the perimeter of the pool, carefree despite being completely exposed to one another. Seongwoo approached, and the animated conversation died down. Anxiety flared up in his chest; he felt every single eye in the room pierce him. Only the low lapping and splashing of water echoed in the large bath chamber. Awkwardness piled on exponentially with each passing second of silence.

 

“So handsome…” A voice broke the silence. Seongwoo’s heart nearly jumped out of his throat at the surprising comment.

 

“Huh?” He muttered.

 

“What’s your name?” Another person chirped.

 

“Where are you from?” “How old are you?” “Can you read?” “His complexion is so pale, it’s unfair!” “Is this his highness’s type?” “What’s the King like in bed?!” “He doesn’t have a single bruise!”

 

Soon chatter once more reverberated in the bath, and Sungwoon took it upon himself to quell the uproar, “Kids- Kids!” He said firmly, quieting everyone. “Clearly our new friend is rather unfamiliar with our lifestyle, so let’s go one at a time, shall we?”

 

“I saw you!” One of the younger looking boys piped up. He sat on the edge of the pool, dipping his feet in. Seongwoo recalled Sungwoon pointing him out earlier. The boy’s slender figure and pretty face were unforgettable. Even though the boy had just woken up, he looked stunning, clearly blessed with the luminous glow of youth.

 

“Oh, um, I’m Guanlin,” The boy said. He leaned back on his palms, swinging his legs in the arm water, “I saw you across the room with Sungwoon.” Seongwoo nodded, returning the greeting with a faltering smile and shuffling toward the edge of the pool to take a seat.

 

“I saw you, too, at court.” Another young boy said. Seongwoo remembered his exotic face well enough. Daehwi’s ward, he recalled. “I’m Samuel.” Introductions continued genially, and a few more concubines even strolled in later. Young men with perky butts, small faces, and flat stomachs promenaded in, giving the concubine a bright greeting. They would happily declare to whom they were bound (some were merely obligated to entertain palace guests) and trot off into the large bath or to some other corner.

 

Though the new faces introduced themselves nicely, Ong made little effort to remember them. focusing more on shielding his eyes from naked bodies. After awhile things seemed to settle in the bath. Fellow concubines found cozy corners to bathe or laze in. Nobody tried sparking a conversation with Seongwoo, and he liked it that way. He highly preferred a quiet soak to being scrubbed by a dozen servants any day.

 

The scents of lavender and mint made his nose tingle as he lethargically soaked. Ong thought he would fall asleep again if he didn’t occupy himself somehow. Lucky for him, the domed ceiling made voices of his fellow bathers bounce around, and a few soft spoken sentences managed to echo into his ears. He couldn’t pin down the owners of the voices talking, but a few hushed voices seemed very engaged in their conversation.

 

“...an’t wait to catch up with him. Can you believe how lucky he is? The Duke is such a handsome man…”

 

“Catch up? Does he not scare you? His natural expression look so fierce compared to his pretty master.” The second person chuckled.

 

“He really is quite nice! Though, it seems odd the Duke would come to court when frost still sits on the leaves. I thought he abhorred travel during the chilly months.”

 

“It’s hardly chilly.” The mysterious voice scoffed. “However…”

 

“However… What?”

 

Seongwoo squeezed his eyes shut, straining his hearing to make out the conversation as well as possible.

 

“Well, I heard the Duke and the King have business.”

 

“Business? Well, he’s a noble, of course they have business. I’m sure they always have some economic matter to discuss. Wait- Why not converse via messenger, then?”

 

“I don’t know. That’s why it’s so interesting! Think about it: messengers _can_ be intercepted.”

 

“So you think it’s a secure matter?”

 

“I’m inclined to believe so. In the past few years no nation is safe, really; so, it could just be a bit of insurance. But... Have you heard about the issues on the coast?”

 

“Yes, I have actually! Weeks ago the count’s concubine, you know- the tiny one - he was telling me that his Master has been a mess, ranting about delays and shipments and such. You know, boring noble things. Something about ships _did_ come up, though.”

 

“The tiny one… Was it- Ken?”

 

“I- Hm. That does sound close. No matter- do you think that’s what the Duke’s come to talk about?”

 

“I thought his duchy was landlocked.”

 

“Yes, I… I think it is, but he _is_ further south. Perhaps the troubles at sea are starting to stretch beyond the beaches…”

 

One of the two groaned, “Do you think it’ll affect us?”

 

“I think it is too late to ask that question. When is the last time you have seen a banana?” Ong could just picture the other person in the conversation nodding in response. He could discern that the voices sounded relatively young, but did not dare glance in the direction of them. The person continued, “If I had to guess - of course, this is speaking as a mere concubine - but, if I had to guess I would say that the Duke needs some help regarding… Some kind of economic concern.”

 

“So he has come crying to our King for help.”

 

“As nobles do.” The two laughed quietly.

 

“The King is very... agreeable; the Duke will probably get what he wants.”

 

“I imagine Duke Hwang could ask for his throne tomorrow and he would gladly give it if the church allowed it.”

 

“Do you think I could have a territory of my own if I bat my eyelashes at the King?”

 

“I would have not before, but apparently he has developed an affinity for our profession.” The person snickered.

 

“If I have to compete with his concubine for special favor, I am destined to lose. He’s- he’s unfair!” Seongwoo couldn’t help but feel flattered at the compliment; he made sure to keep his face straight to prevent giving his eavesdropping away.

 

“He is handsome, but you heard about his behavior in court when he was presented, didn’t you?”

 

“Who _didn’t_ hear about it?” The young man’s voice took on a tone of awe. “I could never... How did he keep his head?”

 

“Good looks is my guess. Good looks and charms, those are the only weapons we’ve got.”

 

“Does ‘charms’ also include our aptitude beneath the sheets?” The two giggled together once more.

 

“So… What do you think about him, then? The new one?” Ong quirked an eyebrow. He knew that the opinions of other concubines did not matter, but he couldn’t help himself from being incredibly curious. What _did_ they think of him, he wondered.

 

“What is there to think? He’s just gotten here. Handsome, but…”

 

“But…?”

 

“I’m not sure how long he will survive right now. You know he’s already pissed off some servants due to his snobbishness.” Seongwoo had do suppress a gasp upon hearing himself described as “snobbish”.  “The first thing he does in court is dare look our King in the eyes- him, a _concubine_! Servants have whispered about him being rude. I mean- He can’t even bear to bathe with us. What right does he have to look down on us?!”

 

“Take a moment to think. He has just arrived here from somewhere far off; he is unfamiliar with all of this. I’m sure he will warm up to us in time. Right now he is just… A frightened animal who has been dumped somewhere unfamiliar. All of his defenses are probably up, and he will snap at anything that gets too close.” Seongwoo disliked being compared to an animal, but he supposed it was more fitting than being called a snob. Frankly, he hated that they had made such judgments at all when they knew nothing about him.

 

“We shall see how long he lasts if he continues acting like a cornered animal.” The voice huffed, aggravated.

 

“He is the King’s. Look at him, he- he doesn’t have a scratch.”

 

The previously annoyed voice sounded jovial once more,“Fair point. With their temperaments combined it would not surprise me to learn that it was he who pushed his highness around…” The detached chortled once more, and upon collecting themselves, they moved on from the subject. The two mused aloud about more court gossip, things the servants told them, and general castle affairs; nothing in particular stood out to the eavesdropping concubine, and he soon found his attention dwindling.

 

Seongwoo maintained a downcast gaze as he proceeded with his ablutions. Leaning back, he sunk beneath the surface of the warm pool, letting his eyes drift closed. He floated in the warm water, inhaling the aromatic herbal fragrances, easing the soreness in his muscles. Physically, his body willed him to feel at ease. His muscles urged him to enter a relaxed state, but his mind refused to calm.

 

Initially, he’d thought than an escape would be a relatively easy feat, that he would find an opportunity to end the King’s life and slip out undetected. Instead, he had failed at the one simple task that would have freed him. The image of Kang Daniel, peacefully snoring taunted him. Ong envied that the man could sleep with such ease while others had been cast out of their own burning homes.

 

Anger ignited in his chest anew; everything galled him. Nobles pranced about in an immaculately tiled court full of gaiety and idle pleasures. Even the lowly concubines, glorified whores kept around as things for amusement, were given better circumstances than the people who had the misfortune of being born in the wrong place.

 

Sinking lower into the warmth, he sighed, causing bubbles to burble up to the surface of the calm pool. He resignedly accepted the fact that, no matter what his wishes were, he was currently incapable of helping every aching soul on the planet. Instead he decided he would try his best to focus on getting some semblance of freedom. He would have fared alright had he been shipped off to work with the other peasants, but being a concubine, to the King _of all people_ , nauseated him.

 

Despite this, he reluctantly admitted to himself: the bath was a nice consolation.  


 

* * *

 

“Up.” Sungwoon’s singsong voice roused Ong from his daze. After soaking a bit longer, he had gotten out of the water to lay in one of the perches along the perimeter of the room. He figured that he’d dozed off at some point. Blinking groggily, the concubine barely registered the projectile flying toward him. “Dry yourself.” Sungwoon told him.

 

Collecting his thoughts, Ong took the object - a square of cotton cloth - and followed Sungwoon’s order. The appointed castle guide droned on about the day’s agenda as Ong got dressed.

 

“Are you listening?” Sungwoon asked as he pushed his specs up.

 

Ong nodded, “I am. I’m just… Trying to figure out the lay of the land here. How long did it take you to get used to this place?”

 

“You seem shrewd enough; I think you will be fine. Follow me, I think you will like our next destination.” The guide said. Seongwoo followed him silently and drank in his surroundings in an attempt to retain some of the knowledge being thrown at him. As he followed the older man he began to gain a semblance of bearings. Though things did not look familiar, he’d worked out which way was east and which was west, north and south. Sungwoon informed him that leisure areas exclusively for concubines were in the northwest wing, that servants’ quarters were on the lowest floor, and that guests of the court had rooms on the second floor, to the east. He pointed out a few tiny doors that led to hidden passages for servants to use - apparently the Kingdom liked them to be seen as little as possible. After pacing down more long corridors adorned with art, sculptures, and fanciful wallpapers, Sungwoon stopped in front of a dark, heavy looking door. Opening it, he gestured for Ong to follow him through the threshold.

 

“This ought to make you feel at least a bit at home,” Sungwoon said.

 

Ong furrowed his brows,“What? Why?”

 

“The library…? You- you were found in one right? At least, that’s how the story goes.”

 

“Oh, right, that. Yeah, I, uh… I’ve spent a lot of time in the company of books.”

 

“Well, I have other matters to attend to, so you can enjoy an afternoon with your old friends once more. Seems empty now, but the others spend time in here, too.”

 

Seongwoo scanned the room. The space seemed comparable to the King’s chambers in size; however, instead of feeling cold and open, the space had been filled to the brim with things. Bookshelves spaced evenly sat atop intricate, oriental rugs. The sunlight filtering through the high seated windows illuminated the specks of floating dust; they made them look almost like glittering shards of glass or glowing fairies. Sitting between the stuffed shelves were a few well worn chairs, cushions, and tables with quill and paper sitting atop them. The sheer volume of space occupied by objects made everything feel much warmer and cozier than other rooms he’d seen in the castle.

 

“Are you to collect me again?” Seongwoo asked.

 

“Yes. At a point. The King is holding a little soiree to celebrate the arrival of the Duke. Concubines are expected to attend small affairs like that, and you’re no exception.”

 

“Oh.” Ong pouted.

 

“You needn’t worry too much, servants will lay out appropriate clothing for you. Just…” Sungwoon eyed Ong up and down, “Don’t get yourself in trouble.” Ong would’ve feigned offense if the suspicion wasn’t so fitting. The concubine’s guide gave a polite nod before scuttling out of the library with haste.

 

Seongwoo turned around to face the empty space. Taking a deep breath, he took in the fragrance of must, dust, and old books. He pursed his lips and set off to see the Kingdom’s literary offerings, strolling between the shelves.  He glanced across the stacks of books: plays, prose, and poetry; Seongwoo had to credit whoever had stocked the library over the years with passable taste.

 

He idly grabbed a book off a shelf and flipped through it briefly. It contained an anthology of satirical stories from various perspectives. Taking a seat in one of the chairs, he cast his eyes to the pages in his hands. Even though he saw the words, none of them seemed to truly stick as a story should. He read and reread sentences. The surreal nature of everything that had happened to him still stubbornly stuck in the back of his mind. It felt so strange to just accept the things presented in front of him and act as if it was normal, acceptable. Regardless, the man managed to make some progress. After near half an hour, the sound of steps gave Ong a welcome distraction from his half hearted attempt at reading. He looked up from the book in his hands, eyebrows raising in surprise at who had entered.

 

General Park’s concubine, Guanlin, greeted Ong hushedly as he stepped into the library. He held a stack of papers along with a quill and inkwell. Walking past, he took a seat at the table behind the chairs and set his things down. Seongwoo tried not to look too blatant as he watched the other concubine. Surprisingly, the boy looked like a baby chick to Ong, his complexion retained it’s youthful glow, his eyes their hopeful twinkle. Seongwoo recalled his guide telling him that the younger boy had been plucked from a warzone like himself, yet one wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him.

 

Guanlin quickly fetched a book; he seemed rather well acquainted with the library.  He returned to his seat and began writing earnestly. Seongwoo hadn’t thought Guanlin the studious type, yet there he sat, determinedly educating himself on something. Ong didn’t want to pry, but the prospect of information proved incredibly tantalizing. It helped that Guanlin’s expression betrayed befuddlement regarding the materials before him.  He chewed on his lip, and had he looked at his papers any more intensely, they may have spontaneously burst into flame. Ong shut his book and stood up. Glancing at the table, he broke the silence between them.

 

“Need help?” He offered.

 

“Hm?” Guanlin woke up from whatever spell his scholarly exploits had put him under.

 

“Apologies, you just, looked confused.” Seongwoo took the liberty of sitting next to Guanlin. “May I ask what it is you’re studying?”

 

Guanlin gave Ong a polite grin, “Language.” He replied sheepishly. The older man eyed the other’s reading materials which corroborated the statement.

 

“You… You’re not from here?” Seongwoo asked, pretending he didn’t know the answer.

 

Guanlin shook his head, “No, but- I’ve learned a lot since arriving.” He smiled, “I think I’m okay with speaking, but reading and writing…”

 

“That’s the difficult part, isn’t it?” Ong said. “Are you from far away?”

 

“Yes, quite.” Guanlin replied. Seongwoo suppressed the urge to ask where his parents were. The answer was obvious, painfully so. Instead he urged the young chick to forge forward, amicably aiding and encouraging him. The two spent a decent amount of time at peace; Guanlin learned under Ong’s casual instruction.

 

“How do you like it here?” Seongwoo said, trying to break the tedium a bit. He thought the question sounded unassuming enough not to come off as prying.

 

“Hm?”

 

“The castle, the Kingdom… How do you like it?”

 

Guanlin dropped his quill, doing nothing to hide his giddiness at the intermission from his studies, “I love it here.” He said, smiling shyly.

 

Seongwoo’s lips turned upward into a polite smile though his eyes widened involuntarily at the proclamation. He’d always prided himself on his aptitude to put on fronts, yet, since arriving in the Kingdom, he constantly found his abilities being thoroughly tested. The older man swallowed to bury the groan and condescending words that so badly desired to burst out of his throat.

 

“Really?” Seongwoo replied.

 

“Truly.” Guanlin nodded, his eyes flitting away demurely

 

“You make me curious. What is it you love so much about it? Is there a secret I don’t know about?” Seongwoo said in a playful tone to urge elaboration.

 

“Well- I am sure you still have a lot to learn about life here, but… Where do I begin? I get to wear fine clothes, eat and drink and have fun with nobles; we get our own bedrooms and our incredible baths. Oh, and not to forget-” He gestured to the library, “-we are allowed to read and write and play, and then there’s…” The young chick grew quiet and his ears tinted pink.

 

Ong narrowed his eyes,“There’s…”

 

“Master Jihoon,” Guanlin said, a massive smile stretching across his face. “He is really… My type.” The boy struggled to maintain eye contact with the older man, his pupils shaking as he laughed awkwardly. Conversely, Ong’s heart dropped.

 

“Ah, your Master. Is he nice?” Ong asked. He imagined the answer was no. Jihoon seemed the type who fancied punishing those he considered lower than him brutally; the kind of man who would grin adorably as he admired the way blood dripped from the fresh wounds he’d inflicted on his plaything. Seongwoo admitted to himself he may have had a slight bias.

 

“Master Jihoon, he… He saved my life.”

 

Ong clenched a white-knuckled fist in his lap, inhaling sharply at hearing Guanlin’s dramatically different perspective. Exhaling inconspicuously as possible, the older man responded, “I- Um, I… I had heard that you were found during a tour in the southwest. A tour during which they… Took the land by force...”

 

Guanlin nodded. His eyes twinkled as he spoke, “My city had crumbled to the ground, it was… A pile of rock and wood, but Master- He saved me! I remember it vividly: a man on a horse wearing a mask, towering over me on his horse, approaches. I was weak, sick from all the smoke, and the man dismounts.”

 

“Did you not fear for your life?!” Seongwoo said, trying not to sound too disgusted at the familiarity of the story.

 

“My life was already over, my country: gone.” Guanlin said frankly; for the shortest possible instant one could comprehend, the light of youth dimmed in the boy. “-But Master, he- he crouched down to me and removed his mask, and when I saw his face...” He sighed, his cheeks flushing, “I knew everything was going to be okay. He personally tended to me for the whole rest of the tour.” The chick giggled childishly, “At first I could barely understand a word he was saying, but he taught me to speak. He took me to the palace, cleaned me up, gave me fine clothes… I owe him everything. He saved me, and now he saved you.”

 

Seongwoo envied the boy’s ability to conveniently gloss over his whole entire life leading up to that point. He wanted to shake the boy so badly, to ask, “He didn’t save me.” “What about your family?” “Your village would not have been leveled had he not led the charge!” “He ended any possibility you had of choosing your life!”; but, he couldn’t bring himself to say a word against the other’s Master.

 

Instead, Ong gave the younger boy a warm smile, “You sound very fond of your Master. It’s sweet.”

 

“I- Wh-” Guanlin covered his face with his hands, “N-no, it’s not like that- I mean- He has the kind of face I like… That’s all. I-it’s not like that.”

 

“Like what?” Seongwoo pestered. “What is not like, Guanlin?”

 

The younger boy laughed,“Seongwoo! Stop it! Why are all of the older brother concubines here so vulgar?! We haven’t even-” He clamped his mouth shut.

 

Ong quirked an eyebrow, “What haven’t you ‘even’, Guanlin? Tell me or I will never help you with writing again.”

 

“That’s not _fair_. You’re persecuting me. I- We- He-” The young concubine struggled with his words. Finally, he huffed, crossing his arms and pouting, “Master says I’m too young to… To…” His eyes flitted to Seongwoo in hopes that the older one would take the hint. At first the vagueness irritated the older man, but he ultimately found the modesty refreshing in contrast to Sungwoon’s bluntness.

 

“You’re too young to- Oh. _Oh_.” Seongwoo’s first internal reaction was immense relief; Jihoon had apparently twisted his mind, but at least he hadn’t ravaged the boy’s body as well.

 

“It’s not fair.” Guanlin frowned, “I know boys years younger than me do it, but Master insists. He says I’m too ‘pure’, to ‘good’. Do you think he’s not… Do you think he doesn’t like how I look? Do I look too young?”

 

“Wh- No, no, you’re fair and tall and charming.” Ong looked at him reassuringly; though he smiled, internally, his mind screeched “No!” repeatedly at the direction in which the conversation had turned. He tactfully redirected the conversation to something that did not give him the urge to plug his ears. “Perhaps…” Ong started. Guanlin perked up, listening to what he thought would surely be sagely advice.

 

“Perhaps, he is waiting for you to learn how to write your characters!” Ong finished, smirking as he watched the younger boy deflate.

 

“Learning new characters is hard.” Guanlin groaned.

 

“You’ve done excellently so far. There is plenty of time before the Duke’s party for you to practice.”

 

“Please, do not remind me. I envy you, not being bound to the library this afternoon.”

 

Suddenly, something sparked in Ong’s brain, “What was that you just said?” He asked.

 

“I said: I envy you. You are not bound to the library this afternoon as I am.”

 

“You are right about that, my friend.” Seongwoo said, the wheels in his head beginning to turn, “I am not bound to this library.”

 

“Are you trying to make me feel worse?” The chick cried.

 

Ong shook his head, “No, sorry- Just, thinking.” He grabbed the book he’d been reading, trotting over to its empty slot on the shelf and replacing it.

 

“Best of luck with your studies!” Seongwoo said when he returned to the middle of the room.

 

“Hey- Where are you going?”

 

“I can help you more tomorrow, or whenever you need it.”

 

“So you shall leave me to perish alone, among the paper and ink?”

 

“Well, it’s as you said, friend: I am not bound to this library.” He beamed at the younger boy, waving as he slipped through the library doors with glee.


	8. An Afternoon Spent Reading About Medicine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 8 WARNING(s): N/A

Seongwoo felt light when he stepped out of the library. For an instant he feared that God himself would smite him for committing the transgression with such ease. He took a few steps cautiously, yet no mystic consequences were imposed upon him. A smile crept across Ong’s lips as he strolled down the hallway; his eyes surveyed the area with newfound vigor. The castle looked much prettier to him when he wasn’t being dragged around by a short, chatty concubine.

 

Reflexively, Ong froze up when a servant turned the corner in front of him. Anxiety flared up from his chest to his throat, and he considered turning tail and fleeing back to the safety of the book stacks. He swallowed with difficulty as the figure approached.

 

“P-pardon me,” The servant said meekly. The small woman kept her gaze down, bowing shallowly before continuing on her errand, completely unphased. Seongwoo turned his head, watching the figure walk off and blinking in confusion. He resumed his walk and a beautiful thought occurred to him; he could walk around the castle unquestioned. Thinking more on the subject, it was only logical that concubines were seen around the castle halls. Some ran errands, like Sungwoon, and others were likely doing the bidding of their own Masters. Seongwoo deduced that, so long as he remained clear of any particularly high ranking nobles, he could roam the castle with a degree of freedom.

 

The concubine had to suppress his inclination to skip with glee. He settled for taking up a jovial gait, distancing himself from the library, descending stairs and walking across wide, long hallways. He’d passed a few servants and even a couple of people with collars like his. He could swear he heard whispers as he passed, and he pondered just how much traction the rumors of his “court behavior” had gained. Seongwoo had never harbored the intention to make friends among the castle’s inhabitants, but he certainly didn’t want to make enemies, either.

 

Ong opted not to let the thought of gossip slow down his time for exploration. His mind explored the possibilities of his little mosey, and an idea quickly sparked in his head. He’d gone down a few sets of stairs which had gotten him to the ground floor. On one side of him were large doors, entrances to grand rooms and lounges, no doubt; on the other side, large windows spanned across the corridor as far as the eye could see. Only a thin barrier of glass and the distance of a few paces separated Ong from the outdoors. His feet idly drew nearer to the windows, following the long corridor to see when he would finally come across a door. In the distance a few people could be seen disappearing in and out of a set of doors. Quirking an eyebrow, the concubine approached as casually as possible, acting as if he knew exactly where he intended on going.

 

“Halt, concubine.” A guard said, making Seongwoo nearly jump through the ceiling. He nervously fidgeted with the thick leather band around his neck and turned around.

 

“Yes?” Ong replied, putting on a straight face. He began fabricating tales in his head in anticipation of any questioning.

 

“You’re not authorized to leave the palace. You know the rules: no concubine is allowed to leave the castle walls unless given permissions.” The guard put plainly. He did not seem particularly suspicious or vexed, much to Seongwoo’s relief.

 

Ong nodded, “Of course! I know the rules.” He couldn’t help but wonder if Sungwoon had mentioned it but he hadn’t been paying attention at the time. “I was merely curious about the weather. It looks quite bright, but cool air is still seeping in through the windows...”

 

“As it does in the times of early spring.” The guard looked completely disenchanted with not only the current conversation, but life itself.

 

“Well, thank you for the update.” Ong gave a genial grin, “Have a good day.” He began walking back the way he came, “And do remain vigilant!” were the concubine’s parting words to the unamused guard, who returned to his post by the door. Turning around, Seongwoo’s friendly expression immediately dropped and he rolled his eyes. He considered trying to scout out other ways outside, but he ultimately thought his time would be better spent exploring inside the castle. People were still walking all over the grounds, inside and out. Making an escape attempt would likely yield an unfavorable result if he could even get outside the castle doors.

 

Seongwoo travelled through more halls and passed by more people, some whispered as he’d passed while others turned their heads. Servants scampered about with arms full of linens or baskets of food; nobles moseyed along more slowly to and from parlors to withdrawing rooms or private chambers.

 

The bustling population of the castle began to thin out as the concubine walked further and further, into another wing of the castle. The sound of Ong’s boots echoed in the solitary hallway. Seongwoo had grown bored of aimless wandering, and, upon noticing the lack of people, interest in what lay behind the doors lining the halls grew.

 

As if answering his unsung prayers, a large, grand pair of doors came into view in the distance. Ong quirked an eyebrow, eagerly approaching the grandiose doors. He looked to his left and then to his right: nothing and nobody. Gripping one of the round handles of the door, a feeling of elation bubbled within him at the sensation of cool metal in his hands. A smirk on his face, he pulled the heavy door open as quietly as he could, slipping in swiftly.

 

The concubine’s jaw dropped as the dull thud of the closing door echoed behind him. He realized, he’d been there before. Before him, grand furniture adorned a vast room. On either side of the room, elaborately crafted chairs with plush cushions were laid out in an orderly fashion. Chandeliers adorned with dangling stones and carved gold hung from the ceiling, and the dangling crystals cascading from the rich fixtures made tiny specks of light dance around the room. The furnishings all sat atop marble tile so finely polished it gleamed like the surface of a glassy lake. Despite the fineness of the decor, it was all dwarfed by the focal point of the room: the massive, ornate throne that sat atop a raised platform.

 

The last time Ong had been there, he was blindfolded and bound.

 

Seongwoo closed his mouth and wandered forward. He walked around the room wide eyed, his eyes truly taking in the impressive space. Everything looked immaculately manicured, from the decadent banners cascading down the walls to the hand painted ceiling details. His eyes were drawn to the throne once more, and a wicked idea took root in his thoughts.

 

The King’s tall, plush throne looked immensely enticing. With little regard to his situation or status, the concubine’s feet moved toward the throne’s platform. Just a few moments sitting atop the throne would have made all his roaming worth it to the concubine. Greedy eyes remained fixed on the King’s seat as he approached.

 

Suddenly, Ong stumbled forward and his arms flailed about in an attempt to regain balance. He took rushed, precarious steps to prevent himself from falling face first into the hard tile floor beneath him. When he finally collects himself, he glances at the ground to see what exactly had obstructed him.

 

Nothing stood out to him initially. All he saw were large marble tiles laid out neatly in their oblique arrangement. He scanned the room around him wondering if anything could have possibly fallen from up high or slid across the floor, but the space remained completely deserted. He strained his hearing hoping he could perhaps hear anything that would shed light on his stumble, but nothing. Just as he was ready to write it off as clumsiness, his eyes went to the floor once more, and he noticed something.

 

Among what he’d thought was another row of fine marble tiles was a single, slightly darker tile. He squinted his eyes and leaned down to inspect the tile more closely. Though inconspicuous at first, Ong identified the culprit of his near fatal fall. He went onto his hands and knees to get a closer look at the out of place thing. It had the same dimensions as those around it, about as long and wide as a person, but it seemed to stick up ever so slightly.

 

Seongwoo turned to look behind himself once more; still, nothing sounded out on the other side of the door, no apparent desires for entry. It made sense; after all, there was little point of gathering in the throne room if the King was absent. Ong walked around the odd tile to the opposite side; he squatted down beside it once more and ran his hand over the stone square. It’s texture felt more coarse than the other tiles around it; Ong’s fingers even felt a thin layer of grit on the top of it. His hand stopped at the feeling of something most curious beneath one of his thumbs.

 

Though invisible to the disregarding eye, toward one of the edges of the tile hid an indentation. Ong thrust his fingers inside the recess to see how large it was and his eyes widened when both of his hands nearly fit. He managed to slot them in up to where his thumbs were, easily hooking his thumbs atop the tile. Without much conscious thought, he pushed, wondering if the tile would perhaps dislodge from its slot. He wondered if there had been some accident and the palace builders had been hard pressed to find a matching replacement.

 

Sliding the stone slowly, a cool draft wafted up from the growing crack between the tiles, intriguing the concubine further. Ong’s mouth dropped with each passing second as he pushed the tile back further and further. He could not believe his eyes.

 

Initially there had just been a tiny peek of worn wood, perhaps the remnants of old flooring, Ong thought. However, as he moved the tile further and further, wrought iron nails came into view; sliding it more he could see more nails and a board running perpendicular to the other hidden wood. Just above that, a small ring protruded from which another ring hung. A handle.

 

When the large tile had finally been pushed all the way off, Seongwoo stood up again. His head darted around with a new sense of urgency. Still not a soul crossed the hallway in the distance. Ong knew that any person with an active sense of self preservation would have slid the tile back in its place and run to the library. The thought of possible consequences did cross his mind: he could have been imprisoned, beaten, or even killed. While wandering palace hallways appeared typical enough, if he were to be caught prancing around with secrets, the results could put his life to a swift end. With these careful considerations in mind, Seongwoo yanked the small door’s handle up.

 

The old hinges of the door whined in protest and it’s squeaks echoed loudly in the room. Seongwoo felt a rush as he looked down into the secret beneath the tile. Worn stone stairs descended into a dark unknown. He immediately wanted nothing more than to descend them.

 

Ong’s mind quickly went over the day’s apparent schedule and the likelihood that he would be caught. He decided to give himself an hour. Servants appeared to be occupied toward the castle center, likely preparing for the Duke’s arrival. The nobles were likely gathered in parlors or chapels or even walking in the gardens outdoors. It did not seem likely that the throne room would be in use before the arrival of the Duke. Ong figured the more time he spent agonizing over details the more time he would waste, putting him at greater risk of getting caught. With his heart pattering, the concubine descended the stairs, mindful to close the small door above him.

 

Slim stripes of light filtered in through the cracks in the wood above him, but aside from that, nothing gave the concubine guidance in the inky blackness in front of him. Regardless, Seongwoo treaded forward carefully, reaching his arms out to his sides to feel his way through the passage. He had no idea how far it stretched nor in what ways it winded, but his inquisitive spirit drove him forward.

 

Beneath his fingertips he could feel rough stone jutting out on either side of him. The passage was narrow, perhaps two paces wide, if that. He stretched his arm above his head to see if he could touch the top, and his hand just barely managed to brush the top. Alongside the walls he occasionally felt something smooth and cool: metal. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he discerned the rough outline of sconces. It made him wonder if people regularly lit the candles in them.

 

The concubine’s thoughts started to stir in speculation about the tunnel’s uses. The presence of sconces implied that people had used them enough to justify installing torches; however, the door looked well worn and dusty, it hadn’t been touched in a long time. Continuing forward, he began to hear more than just his boots on the stone beneath him. He could hear steps above, the creaking of boards and clacking of tile. He honestly had no idea in which direction the passage had taken him or what rooms were above him.

 

Though Ong’s eyesight had adjusted somewhat to the darkness, there was little to see ahead but stone and the occasional sconce or torch. He dragged his hands across the wall mindlessly and walked for an uncertain amount of time. Strangely enough, as minutes passed, Ong felt more and more relaxed. Even though he stood just beneath the castle, he felt somehow displaced, as if he had been transported somewhere far, far away. There were no bustling servants or snobbish nobles turning their noses up at him.

 

No fairy-esque men squawked orders at him and he did not feel the pressure of being someone’s pet. Despite his situation he did not feel unsafe or watched. He merely walked forward, step after step echoing around him, a cool draft his only company. He took a deep breath and the slight smell of mildew drifted into his nose. The strange combination of muffled noises coming from above could almost sound like water lapping at the side of a boat.

 

Thinking that his sight hardly helped him anyways, Seongwoo shut his eyes and kept walking, imagining himself in a boat. He knew his fingers were getting dusty from skimming across stones, but he didn’t care. For a blissful few minutes he shed his anxieties and simply walked onward. He didn’t care about anything at all.

 

Then it stopped.

 

Something changed, and Ong’s eyes flew open. He could still see nothing, but he’d felt something drastically different. On his right side, his palm still felt jagged, coarse stone, but on his left: nothing. He reached out further to his left only to grasp at thin air.

 

There was nothing, which meant that there was something.

 

Seongwoo leaned to the left, feeling around again. His hand found the wall again slightly behind him, then once again air. Wall, then air. Approaching the left side of the wall once more, he felt more closely, letting his hand follow the contour of the stone instead of moving in one direction. He gasped internally as his hand traced a curve in the stone: there was a fork in the tunnel. His heart began racing again. He didn’t bother thinking hard on his decision, merely following the contour of the left wall to take the offshooting path. He had a gut feeling that there was something in that direction, and it was quickly confirmed to be right as he saw tiny slivers of light in the distance.

 

Pacing quickly, Ong nearly crashed into the stairs that cropped out in front of him as he pursued the light. Muffled voices penetrated the little cracks above him, and a few could even be recognized as words. Seongwoo wondered where exactly he had gotten himself. The concubine ascended the steep steps carefully.

 

The concubine realized why the steps had been so steep when he reached the top. He came face to face with the source of the strips of light and stood level with them as opposed to beneath them, like his entrance. The voices on the other side were clearer than before, muffled, but almost completely decipherable. His heart thumped in his chest as he warily put an eye to the crack. He supposed just one look couldn’t hurt.

 

Glimpsing through the crack, Seongwoo nearly leapt back in shock. Through the narrow opening he could see a sliver of some grand room with a table in the middle. At the head of the table, directly opposite Seongwoo, sat his very own Master, King Daniel. For an instant, the King’s eyes fell on the very spot from which Ong watched, and the concubine went statue still. A feeling of dread cloaked him as he wondered if his knack for nosing around had just orchestrated his own demise.

 

The King blinked and pursed his lips, but before he could say or do anything more, someone else in the room demanded his attention with an inaudible utterance. Seongwoo blinked, remaining still for a few moments more as if it would assure he would be spared. When a minute or so passed by without any further glances or comments, Ong willed himself to relax. He took a shaky breath to settle his nerves and let his curiosity take the reigns, straining his ears to listen to the best of his ability.

 

“...an’t do that, the port towns are not… -ey want protection… no merchants will tr...” The first voice spoke rather timidly.

 

Thankfully, the next voice that spoke was much louder. “We cannot just give in to every whim and complaint our partners come crying to us about. These are city states, they ought to be responsible for rallying their own men, not demanding ours.”

 

“Why not occupy one? It seems like a much more favorable route. If they cannot rally men to protect themselves, then they surely won’t be able to resist.” A spark of recognition ignited in Ong’s brain. The language and the tone of the voice could belong to nobody other than General Park Jihoon. The concubine squinted to see if he could make out the General’s figure at all. Alas, he could not. Only the King was in clear view from his vantage point. The narrow slit cut off nearly everything else from sight.

 

The King replied,“General, I appreciate your willingness to charge into battle for the Kingdom, but I do not intend to cross long time allies. There is no need to shed blood. How many boats do we have?”

 

“Your highness, you are _not_ seriously considering yielding, are you?” The other unrecognized voice groaned. The tone sounded slightly  higher than General Park’s; judging by his language Seongwoo would wager that the speaker knew the King on a more personal level. Otherwise one would not likely dare regard the King’s considerations with such casual exasperation. Ong concluded that it was probably his highness’s right hand man: Hoon Jiwoon, or something similar to that. He could not recall in that precise moment.

 

“ _I_ am considering all of our options.” The King said exasperatedly. “I will not command forces to engage on the city, but… Well, I will need to talk to the Duke to see how his farms are doing. We may be able to compensate for the… Shortcomings.”

 

Seongwoo tried to piece together the context for the story, his heart still pounding and his palms sweating. From what he could gather, there was a trade dispute or conflict. His highness mentioned boats which implied it referred to imported goods or naval trade. He cocked an eyebrow, slowly putting the pieces together. He couldn’t help the tiny twinge of amusement that tickled him, but he quickly buried it so he could focus on listening more.

 

The muttering voice spoke once more,“...hy not… ecide or el… eople wi… doe… the kingdom kno… what if…”

 

Seongwoo could make out frown on the King’s face. He looked displeased with his panel of apparent advisors. “As I said, when we meet with the Duke, I will start calculating our next step. You… You truly have heard nothing from your reconnaissance?”

 

“To be honest, your highness, I am beginning to grow suspect. I believe foul play may be at hand. I only send my best to gather information, and yet...”

 

“Wait- So you’ve really heard nothing?” The louder man, Advisor Hoon, said. “You don’t think they’ve crossed us, do you?”

 

“My men would never do such a thing, they are loyal to me and the Kingdom. I only tell them the smallest possible amount of information anyways. They only know what they need to, nothing more. Nothing that would be of significant value to enemies.”

 

“...t could b… eal… ave you considered that?” The small voice spoke more assertively.

 

The General barked,“That’s ridiculous. A fairytale. It is probably calculated and targeted.”

 

“Or, more likely: some greedy nobles want to take advantage of the King’s kind, sympathetic nature by orchestrating some- some plea-”

 

The sound of a door creaking open cut off the probably-advisor, and Ong could just barely see a messenger present a note to the King on a silver tray. The King nodded politely, accepting the note and unfolding it.

 

“ _Damn_. Time must have escaped me,” King Daniel said, “The Duke will be here within a couple of hours. We can continue this discussion after I meet with him.”

 

“Already?” The advisor said, “I must collect my ward, he agreed to help with so much...”

 

“...ill dismiss myself…”

 

“No doubt we’ll have a party, then?” The General asked.

 

“It’s already in the works.” The advisor replies.

 

“Fun!” Seongwoo could just picture the General’s little winning smile at his exclamation. “Your highness, do you think you will take out your pet tonight? I am sure the court is eager to see him.” Ong’s hand shot to cover his face in order to prevent the snort he made from giving him away. The mental image of the King’s tiny orange cat decked out in jewels on a fine cushion seemed comical to him.

 

“I- To be honest I hadn’t given it much thought. D-Do you think he would like that?” The King took his cats more seriously than any other person Seongwoo had ever known. Ong had so little knowledge of the King as a person; yet, the thought of the King regarding his cats in high esteem seemed completely believable.

 

“He would- Who would like what?” The General replied. The door creaked open, likely one of the other two people in the room making their exit.

 

“The party? Do you think Seongwoo would like the party? I mean, he may still be a bit anxious. I know it is customary, but perhaps I can let him stay in his-” The concubine’s smile immediately dropped and a tightness took hold inside his chest.

 

“Who is Seongwoo? Oh… Wait is that what you’ve decided to call it?” The General chuckled.

 

“I- That’s his name, actually.”

 

“Oh. You call it by its name?” Disgust twisted inside Seongwoo’s chest. The General knew damn well that he was, in fact, a man, not an “it”.

 

“I- Should I not?”

 

“Oh- No, no, you- You can call it whatever you want. You always liked authentic names for your pets. Peter, Rooney… But, I digress. Concubines adore functions, I mean, it is part of why we keep them, yes?” The General chuckled. Ong could feel his entire being flare with indignation.

 

“Pet…” The King muttered before addressing General Park, ”Right, of course. I think I shall take him, then. He can get used to his surroundings. General- I mean- Jihoon.”

 

“Yes, My King?” The General replied.

 

“Thank you.” Seongwoo rolled his eyes, silently mimicking the King’s “thank you” to himself.

 

“Anything for my King… And my Kingdom.”

 

The King stood up, and the General’s figure followed as they moved out of view, likely toward the door. Suddenly, something occurred to Ong.

 

They were leaving to make preparations for the Duke’s arrival.

 

Sungwoon had intended to collect the concubine from the library shortly prior to the Duke’s arrival.

 

Sungwoon was likely on his way to the library in that very moment.

 

As much as Seongwoo would have liked to stir in rage, fantasize about punching the General, or digest the things he had just heard, he had no time. Without hesitation he turned around, descending the steep steps that led him up to the private room’s little peephole. He made sure to take the right turn at the fork and dashed down the passage. His rapid steps echoed loudly in his ears as he ran in the direction from which he had come. He took no time to shut his eyes or smell the dank air, his mind only set on making it to the library before Sungwoon.

 

He bumped into the first step and ran up the steps on all fours. Despite his urgency he made sure to open the small door as slowly as possible. By some miracle nobody had obstructed it with its tile cover. Had anyone noticed it, they did not leave any indication in the still empty throne room. Ong hastily shut the small passage door and slid the tile over it haphazardly before rushing to the throne room’s entrance.

 

He slipped out the heavy doors as stealthily as possible, treading lightly, and closed the door as quietly as he possibly could. The concubine trotted quickly down the corridor, trying not to overthink his route back. When he came across servants or nobles he slowed down to a swift but discreet stride, using his long legs to cover as much distance as possible. As he turns a corner, he hears a familiar voice behind him chattering with someone loudly. Ong freezes in horror as he sees Sungwoon arguing with a man holding a guitar.

 

“I thought I had the message forwarded to you - it’s the piece in E minor. E. Minor. Does that opus sound like E minor?”

 

“Okay, okay, okay,” The court musician tried to calm the other concubine down, “Let me just tell our hard working dancers that they must create a routine for a completely. Different. Song. I am sure Woojin will be _thrilled_.”

 

Sungwoon pinched the bridge of his nose, “I- I do not have time for this! The Duke is due in no more than two hours, and I- I- Figure it out!” Ong’s guide hollered. As amusing as Ong found the short man’s shrill outburst, the reality of his situation rapidly dawned on him. He needed to find another way to the library, and fast.

 

Turning on his heel, Seongwoo wracked his brain, trying desperately to recall the long tours that Sungwoon had given him over the past day. He reached a staircase and descended it with haste, deciding to make his way across the lower level and then ascend further east. Assuming Sungwoon did not take the path he did and took the more direct route on the second floor, Ong had a chance of making it undetected.

 

A few nobles turned their heads, but Seongwoo did his best to look as casual as possible. Surely the sight of a concubine roaming about wasn’t too unconventional, or else the others would not do so freely. When he finally reached the stairs, he broke out into a run once more. His past days of little food and rest began catching up with him as he ran up the stairs, getting more and more winded with each step.

 

The concubine bobbed and weaved between servants and lady’s maids and a few nobles, nearly knocking over a couple of laundresses hauling large baskets of linens. When he reached the top he picked up his pace once more. The statues and paintings surrounding him begin to look more and more familiar, and he is certain the library is near.

 

Ong nearly collided with the wall in front of him as he turned the last corner, bounding down the corridor. He muttered cusses under his breath as he closed in on the familiar door, and panic set in as he heard steps echoing from the opposite end of the hall. Bringing himself to a halt in front of the library’s entrance, the floor squeaked beneath him as he slipped in through the door.

 

The sound of steps approaching came in through the open library entrance, and Ong rushed to the nearest shelf to grab anything that looked remotely like a book before launching himself into the nearest chair. Guanlin blinked confusedly at the older man but before he could open his mouth to make a remark, Sungwoon’s silhouette darkened the doorway.

 

“Hello!” The short man chirped. “Have you had a good afternoon Seongwoo?” Ong labored to steady his breathing. He prayed that the sweat covering his skin was not easily noticeable.

 

Seongwoo flashed Sungwoon his most winning smile and said, “Oh? I hardly noticed you there! It’s been quite pleasant, yes. Got into some excellent literature like…” Ong glanced at the cover of the book he had picked up, “...De Materia Medica... Medicine. Fascinating stuff.”

 

“Is it now?” Sungwoon quirked an eyebrow, dubiously,“Guanlin, does Seongwoo strike you as the type be enthralled with medical text for hours?” The young chick’s pupils darted from Sungwoon to Seongwoo for a few seconds before settling on the advisor’s ward. Seongwoo kept his gaze on Sungwoon while silently praying that Guanlin had the good manners to keep his mouth shut.

 

Guanlin started,“Well, the truth is…” Ong tensed up, gripping his book with white knuckles. He had no intention of threatening the young boy, but he made sure to give the chick a look; just a wide eyed expression to urge his support, nothing to particularly intimidate.

 

“The truth is, Seongwoo helped me out a lot. He didn’t have to, and I probably pulled him away from his own reading a lot, but… He did it anyways, so I’m thankful to him.” Seongwoo turned to Sungwoon, giving the guide another beaming smile and a shrug.

 

Sungwoon raised his eyebrows, “That’s actually quite kind of you. Perhaps you’re not just trouble after all. Trouble or not, I am going to take you back to your chambers. Servants will be by with some garments for you to try on for tonight’s engagement. Also, you’ll want to relax before your first court affair, trust me.”

 

Ong nodded, “While you stage your words as a kind suggestion, it is my understanding that I have no choice in the matter.”

 

Sungwoon smirked, “I love a fast learner. Now, come. Follow me.” Ong got up, slotting the medical text back into its spot before joining Sungwoon at the entrance.

 

“You too, Guanlin.” Sungwoon hollered into the room, “Try and get some rest before the party, okay?” Guanlin uttered a fast “mhm”, in response.

 

When Sungwoon started to leave, Ong turned around to mouth a fast, “Thank you” to the chick, who gave him a knowing smile and a nod.

 

* * *

 

Walks through the palace halls already began feeling more short than they had before. In what felt like no time at all, Sungwoon had returned Ong to his room, informing him that servants would be by to help him dress in a few hours. The two had barely exchanged any words afterwards; the guide had rushed off with urgency shortly after dumping Seongwoo in his chambers.

 

Though thoughts still buzzed in Ong’s head, he happily took the chance to rest, jumping onto his plush bed unceremoniously. So many things had changed in his life over just a few days; so many events and faces and words flew around in his mind, but there were so many not a single one prevailed over the others. Memories flashed in his head, vignettes. He’d been thrown in a wagon, carted for days, thrown into the servant’s hands and lugged around the castle. Ong thought he must have been tied and untied more in the past few days than the twenty two years prior. Admittedly, he’d always anticipated that any times he spent tied up would’ve been much more fun.

 

Days of exhaustion began weighing on the concubine’s consciousness once more. His eyes felt heavier with each passing minute. He considered the option of sleeping; perhaps Sungwoon was right about him wanting to be well rested, he mused. The concubine let his eyes shut, relishing in the sweet, satisfying sensation of giving in to his weariness.

 

Minutes passed.

 

In spite of his fatigue and desire to doze, Ong reluctantly realized that he could not fall asleep. Cacophonous memories and ideas continued droning on at the back of his consciousness, rendering his mind incapable of going under. He groaned and sluggishly sat back up, displeased. With the option of rest thrown out the metaphorical window, he thought his best bet for some kind of amusement was the physical window through which light shone into his room.

 

Sighing, Ong hopped off his bed and walked over to his window, leaning heavily on the wooden frame. People had already begun gathering in the grand courtyard out front, and their bodies in the distance, rushing around, did not look unlike ants. Seongwoo followed the meticulously kept path leading to the palace entrance and made out the silhouette of a group approaching. A few modest wagons seemed to surround a more unique looking one; at least a couple dozen men on horses accompanied them. Before long they approached the waiting crowd.

 

The sun, now high in the sky, shone brightly down on the castle’s grand entryway. A caravan of mounted guards surrounded an ornately painted carriage. Even from up high in the castle, Seongwoo could make out the rich gold and red colors painting the glorious carriage. Crowds of nobles and knights hoisting flags stood on either side of the entrance. At the end of the aisle made by the nobles stood the King and his advisor. Seongwoo could just barely make out the petite form of Sungwoon further back to one side.

 

Seongwoo watched in fascination as the nobleman stepped out of his richly crafted wagon. Though he couldn’t discern any facial features, he could see the man had a cool, confident air about him. He looked tall, slender, and fair, all desirable qualities of a nobleman. His steps were graceful, almost lending him the appearance of gliding, and he held his head high. Surprisingly, no wife or children followed. The noble approached the King and the two exchanged what were no doubt polite words. Their polite nods to one another did nothing to indicate their relationship. Whether it was formal, friendly, or one of disdainful tolerance, Seongwoo couldn’t tell. The fanfare dissolved shortly thereafter as everyone followed his highness and the nobleman into the castle.

 

Despite the dissipation activity, Seongwoo continued gazing outside. His eyes traced the maze of hedges and topiaries, immaculately tended to grass and glassy pools adorned with statues. He realized: it had been a long time since he had truly been outside. He looked out, wistfully, fantasizing about walking through gardens or eating a picnic under a tree. Such simple joys were something even commoners got to indulge in, at least in some respect. While a peasant’s picnic may not have been made of luxurious foods nor their gardens immaculate, at the very least they had the right to go outdoors as they pleased. Such a privilege was, apparently, not one concubines enjoyed.

 

After minutes of staring longingly at the yard, Seongwoo managed to tear his eyes away from the window. With the Duke’s arrival it meant that he would be called upon shortly.


	9. Beauty and Restraint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 7 WARNING(s): explicit language

A knock on his door roused Seongwoo from his daydreaming. He’d spent some time after watching the Duke’s procession lazing about his room, exploring the contents of the standing wardrobe and chests inside it, but eventually had returned to staring out the window. The knock on the door was a welcome break in the tedium.

 

Ong crossed his room and opened the door, met with the sight of three women, one of whom he remembered meeting before. Something about the woman’s familiar presence gave Seongwoo a sense of comfort. 

 

Though Eunji hadn’t been particularly reassuring or nice during their first meeting, she wasn’t unkind either. She spoke frankly and made no effort to impose any sort of agenda on him; he didn’t realize how much he appreciated her honesty until seeing her once more.

 

“Aren’t you busy with preparations for the party?” Ong asked.

 

“You are my preparations for the party,” Eunji grinned, not bothering to wait for an invitation before walking in, “What? Don’t think I’m good enough at delegating tasks to leave my staff unattended?”

 

“Wh- N-no, I-”

 

“I’m just giving you a hard time,” She chuckled, “Of course, perhaps I ought to lay of a tad. From what I’ve heard, I’m not the only one who’s given you a hard time ‘round here.” The maid patted the bench in front of his dressing table, urging him to take a seat.

 

Seongwoo quirked an eyebrow, “Rumors do gain traction quickly, don’t they.”

 

“Things around the palace are especially boring during the cold months. It’s just now beginning to thaw, but many of us still have little more to do than gossip. You should start a rumor of your own, might be fun.”

 

Despite his swelling anxieties, a small smile teased at the edges of Ong’s lips.

 

“That’s more like it,” Eunji said, “You are so pretty when you smile.” She turned to the open door, chirping at the other maids standing at the doorway, “Bring more candles, please- Borrow some from one of the nearby unoccupied rooms, we’ll need more lighting! And you- You’ve got the vermillion, yes? And the kohl?” The girls gathered at the doorway obliged, scattering about to do as they were told.

 

“I thought you were here to deliver clothing, what’s all this?” Ong asked. His pupils darted from his reflection in the mirror to Eunji and the skittering maids.

 

Eunji squeezed Ong’s shoulders, grinning at him through the mirror, “This is the first time that the King’s concubine is to take his side among the courtiers. No detail can be missed, you have to look  _ perfect _ . Anyways,” The maid shrugged, “This is way more fun than hanging up garland.”

 

One of the young maids trotted in with a couple of candlesticks in her hands; upon Eunji’s request she placed them on either side of Seongwoo’s dressing table. Another servant scurried forward with an arm full of exotic looking jars and fancy little powder boxes; she placed them delicately atop the table as well.

 

Seongwoo looked across the array of little containers that had been placed in front of him and his eyes widened, “This is all going on my face?”

 

Eunji laughed, “Not all of it; just most. Some of those have parfum. Here, turn toward me.” She gestured for Ong to sit sideways on the bench.

 

The concubine did just that, turning to face her, “I thought this gathering was supposed to be small.” He chewed on his lower lip nervously. Eunji grinned, grabbing a little silver box off the vanity and opening it. A small cloud of white powder emerged as she removed a poofy ball of cotton out.

 

“It is small,” Eunji replied matter of factly, “Trust me, in the future you will look back fondly on this little reception. Speaking of the future-” She began lightly patting Ong’s face with the powdered cotton, “-don’t look forward to treatment like this for every engagement. I’m here to make sure it goes right the first time, next time you’re on your own.”

 

Seongwoo tried to keep his expression steady as he replied, “What’s all this anyways? Am I to look like a ghost?”

 

The maid giggled, “Ground alabaster. It’s not that opaque, just enough to give your face a becoming pale glow…” She lifted the poof from his face, inspecting her work thus far, “Hayoung! Yes, you- Hold this candlestick on the other side of him-” She ordered. Another one of her subordinates scuttled to the vanity area, taking hold of one of the candle sticks and holding it near Seongwoo’s face. “Perfect…” Eunji assessed her work. “Next is… Where are the brushes- Hayoung where are the brushes?”

 

The maid holding the candlestick, Hayoung, shook her head, “I don’t know- Um, who grabbed the kohl-”

 

“Namjoo…” Eunji mused aloud, “Namjoo!” She hollered to one of the maids watching by the room’s entrance, “The brushes!” A third maid scampered to the dressing table, muttering quick sorries and handing off brushes to Eunji before returning to her post. Seongwoo couldn’t help but think that in different circumstances for a different person, being surrounded and waited on by cute maids would have been heavenly. 

 

Unfortunately, all he could think of was the daunting event in front of him. With each passing minute he grew closer and closer to being plunged into a torrent of court socializing and affairs. More daunting than that, he would do so at the side of the King. True, their exchange the previous night had been civil, but Seongwoo did not count on their relationship maintaining such simplicity for much longer. Thinking that the King would go another night asking nothing of the concubine felt optimistic at best. Even when thinking about his highness at his most mild mannered, merely picturing the man made Seongwoo’s stomach knot. He chewed on his lip nervously as the maids continued orbiting around him.

 

“Don’t look so sour,” Eunji said, lightly brushing a pink tinted powder on his cheeks. “You’re going to a royal party, why not have some fun?” Seongwoo suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. The idea of having fun sounded absolutely ludicrous to him given his circumstances. As much as he would have liked to express that to Eunji, he didn’t wish to vex her. She’d done nothing wrong; she had merely been candid with him.

 

“Would you have fun if you were in my shoes?” Ong asked. The question came from an honest place; some servants treated him as an equal while others did not even dare return his gaze directly. As a result, Ong had no idea what to conclude of the peoples’ thoughts regarding the presence of concubines in the castle, no indication of where he truly stood. While he did not concern himself with the personal opinions of servants or even noble people, he’d figured that knowing his place would help him survive in the meanwhile.

 

Eunji grinned, “In your position? Absolutely! Are you kidding me? If I had your looks and was surrounded by all those nobles… I would fuck my way to dukedom.” The maids in the room giggled as Ong’s jaw dropped. 

 

He couldn’t help but chuckle as he replied, “I- Wh- You did not strike me as a trollop.”

 

The maid lightly smacked him on the shoulder, “I am not!” The other maids laughed even more loudly than before, “I am not. But… I would be for a duchy.” She smirked, putting down the brush she’d been using to sweep vermillion on his cheeks. 

 

“Does that really happen? Are concubines given such things?”

 

“Well… Not quite. To be honest once they leave the castle, I don’t hear from them…”

 

“I’ve heard some rumors,” One of the young maids, Hayoung, piped up from across the room, “No duchies, but I’ve heard about concubines whose Masters were extra sweet on them. They’d get houses and a bit of land. No territory, but that’s still better than nothing!”

 

“ _ No _ . No way!” Another one of the assisting maids, Namjoo, said,”We work three times as hard as any concubine. Where’s my house?” She pouted.

 

Eunji rolled her eyes with a grin, “We’re women. We’re lucky if we get respect.” She grabbed a smaller brush and dipped it in another jar with a fine, dark powder. “Close your eyes,” She instructed Seongwoo.

 

He obliged and continued the conversation, “So, would you be a concubine if you could?”

 

Hayoung tilted her head in contemplation,“Oh, gosh… I don’t know, I mean- I’m a good, God fearing woman…”

 

“God fearing?!” Namjoo exclaimed, “God be damned I would take the life in a heartbeat. Even if only temporarily it would be so much fun!” She clasped her hands in front of herself dramatically, “Dining with nobles, wearing pretty clothes.”

 

“Yes, but what if your noble is an absolute pig or treats you badly?” Hayoung gasped.

 

Namjoo replied,“Wine and makeup can fix those things. Can’t be much worse than wasting away laundry rooms.” Eunji just laughed in response, taking an intermission from her work on Ong’s eyes to dab something oily on his lips.

 

“Wait- Can- Can women be concubines?” Ong asked. For some reason it never occurred to him to question the environment. He had been so wrapped up in the events unfolding before him that he hadn’t truly inspected the culture around him.

 

“Technically,” Eunji said, “A noble person is entitled to take whomever they want as a concubine. The only case in which it’s not allowed are cases when someone of higher rank wishes to take the same concubine you do. However, ladies are not often taken as concubines. Accidental heirs and all that. You can open your eyes now.” Ong blinked his eyes open and nodded. The consideration of “accidental heirs” as Eunji put it made sense; he felt ashamed for not realizing it in the first place. 

 

The head maid took a small, fluffier brush, telling Ong, “Look up, but keep your eyes open.” Before continuing the conversation, “Concubines we are not… Mistresses, however, will be taken. Of course, mistresses tend to be ladies of some title or status, so it’s not quite the same.” Eunji leaned back again, eyeing Seongwoo’s face to check her work once more. She seemed quite pleased, but reached for another brush to add one finishing touch. Between her fingers she held the most slender brush Ong had ever seen, it looked no thicker than the nib of a quill. With a smile, she dipped it into a tiny jar of a substance that looked like black ink, and carefully placed three dots on his cheek.

 

“There,” The head maid said, triumphant, “Just didn’t want those to get lost under the alabaster.”

 

Seongwoo turned to look at himself in the mirror fearfully. He’d seen the results that a heavy hand with cosmetics could yield and wasn’t too eager to display them. He gasped in surprise at his own appearance in the looking glass. Much to his relief, the makeup did not appear nearly as substantial as it felt. The alabaster brought out the natural fairness in his skin, and the rouge had been applied very daintily, just enough to give his cheeks a natural, youthful glow. His lips were subtly tinted a natural pink. Most noticeable was the work Eunji had done around his eyes. The line drawn along his eyelashes was paper thin, almost completely unnoticeable; the reddish brown hues that she’d swept along the outer corners of his eyes emphasized their natural shape and simultaneously lended them them a cloudy, captivating quality.

 

“You can thank me at any time.” Eunji said, grinning. The other maids huddled around Seongwoo to get closer looks themselves; they all chattered gleefully about the concubine’s now accentuated features.

 

“Truly fit for his royal highness!” “He is by far the most handsome concubine I have ever seen-” “Eunji you did an amazing job!” “Can you do me next?!” “Have you ever seen a man so beautiful you could cry?” “His highness will be enthralled with him!”

 

“That is quite enough!” Eunji said, putting her hands up, “We haven’t even gotten him dressed or done his hair.” The other maids giggled, backing off. 

 

“I can dress myself!” Seongwoo quickly interjected. He’d been seen naked by enough people that day, and didn’t fancy any more strange eyes seeing him exposed.

 

“The jerkin will need to be fastened in the back, and it’s much easier to have someone else tie the knots at the sleeve’s cuffs.” Eunji said. Ong glanced at her, then at Namjoo and Hayoung who appeared to be listening very, very attentively.

 

Blush stung Seongwoo’s cheeks, and he struggled to believe the words that left his mouth, “I… Will accept your help putting those on-” He could hear the other maids giggling. Eunji rolled her eyes. “ _ But _ , I can get my hose on myself.” He quickly added. His answer satisfied the two giggling maids, and they eagerly helped him shed his current shirt. 

 

The two underlings filled Ong’s ears with happy party talk, gossip, and compliments as they helped him put his new shirt on. Unsurprisingly, the dark, silky garment had been designed to show a large amount of skin; the neckline plunged deep between his pectorals and spanned widely enough for both his collar and collarbone to be plainly visible. The dark red and black brocade textile of the jerkin complimented the shirt underneath. As Eunji had said, it had ties in both the front and back with which Namjoo and Hayoung happily assisted. Eunji herself took a jar of some waxy substance and began shaping Ong’s hair into something court would deem acceptable.

 

“How much longer until this thing starts. I fear I’ll be late at this rate,” Ong joked as the three women proceeded to fuss over him, sliding rings onto his fingers and a belt around his waist.

 

“Hm.” Eunji muttered.

 

“Hm?” Seongwoo replied.

 

“That’s funny.”

 

“What’s funny?”

 

“Oh, it’s nothing, really. I do not wish to alarm you.”

 

“Don’t wish to alarm me!? Well, now you have!” Ong exclaimed.

 

“It truly is nothing. I- I apologize for saying anything at all. It’s just, well...” Seongwoo doubted anything Eunji said could have been more upsetting than the events of his life for the past week. He raised his eyebrows at her, urging her to complete the thought.

 

“...Well there appears to be a hole in your ear. Both of them, actually! Isn’t that funny?”

 

Ong’s eyes widened. His hand shot to his ears, “Wha… What is this?” He muttered, fingering the lobes. “I… I…”

 

“Perhaps they did it when you were sleeping on the trip here. How queer…” Eunji remarked. Seongwoo’s chest seized once more; he was at a loss for words. 

 

“Oh, don’t think too much about it. Many concubines like to decorate their ears. Jihoon probably thought King Daniel would favor the look.” The maid rolled her eyes. “Just be glad you didn’t wake up for it. Just unfortunate that we didn’t pay attention before. We could have had some jewels to adorn your ears as well.”

 

“That General… Do you not fear him?” The concubine asked, swallowing hard.

 

Eunji laughed, “Jihoon? I’ve been working at this castle since I was old enough to work, and he’s been here the whole time. The General is… Determined, yes. I suppose he can be scary on the battlefield. I wouldn’t know. However, in the castle walls he’s just… Well... “ She laughed again, “He’s just himself! He can honestly be quite silly, and is genuinely a loyal, kind friend. I suppose that’s why he is so fierce out there. In his eyes, he’s doing everything to protect what he holds dear. You have nothing to worry about with him, though. You’re one of us now.”

 

Seongwoo knew that Eunji’s last statement was meant to assuage his fears about General Park, about life in the castle in general; however, all it did was make his heart sink further. While part of him felt joyful at being so readily welcomed into the Kingdom (if only by one person), he knew the statement was just a pretty lie. Perhaps Eunji had truly meant those words, but to him they were merely gilded. 

 

He was not one of them and never would be. To that fact, he’d resigned himself.

 

“Thank you,” Ong muttered, unsure how else to respond.

 

“No trouble at all.” Eunji said. “I believe our work here is done- unless there is anything else you need.”

 

Seongwoo shook his head, “I think I need some time to collect myself, to be completely honest.”

 

“I think that is a request we can oblige, right?” Eunji turned to Namjoo and Hayoung who’d been whispering to one another behind their boss. The two nodded. Eunji turned back to the concubine, “Good luck, Seongwoo. And… I know it seems impossible, but try to have some kind of fun.” Opening the door, She filed out with the other maids in tow, turning around to give Ong one last reassuring smile before shutting it softly.

 

* * *

 

Door hinges creaked and the sound reverberated around the quiet room. Seongwoo had been pacing around nervously for awhile, and upon hearing the noise of the door he froze instantly. The hidden wall in the door slowly opened, revealing the King’s exceptionally dressed figure. 

 

Seongwoo stood as straight as possible; his heart jumped and his pupils shook. In the back of his head, a voice urged him to rebel, to lash out, to do something. Scenarios ran through his head, but nothing stuck out as a particularly good idea. After a few moments, Ong finally worked up the courage to look directly at the King. He timidly glanced at the man he was supposed to call “Master”. Upon glancing at the man, Seongwoo realized he’d never gotten a very good look at his highness; he’d been too focused on staring daggers at him upon being introduced. During his haphazard bedtime meeting Seongwoo’s eyes were scarcely on the man’s face.

 

King Daniel wore a similar, complimentary coordinate to his. They both wore fine silks and brocades in rich reds and blacks, but the King had a more ornate doublet with fine silver buttons and exquisite trims. He noticed an assortment of silver rings embedded with gleaming gems on the ruler’s fidgeting fingers; they were probably worth more gold and silver than an entire village. The man’s hair had been done in a similar way, just parted slightly to show a peek of his forehead while letting some still cover his face. He’d also been made up as well, his eyes gaining a new depth with the help of gold and brown pigments. The concubine suddenly felt modestly dressed next to his Master. Finally, he ventured a look into the other’s eyes.

 

Unexpectedly, upon seeing the King’s face, Seongwoo realized a most mystifying thing: King Daniel looked nervous too. Seongwoo’s heart flitted about beneath his ribcage, wanting so badly to escape its mortal confines. For an instant he’d nearly forgotten the man in front of him was so much more than just a man. 

 

King Daniel chewed on his thick lower lip, his teeth protruding not unlike a rabbit’s as he did so. His highness’s eyes danced about, swapping between looking at the concubine’s feet and then the ground. It appeared that Seongwoo had been the first of the pair to actually muster up the nerve to rightly look at the other.

 

The concubine almost pitied the man before him. To think that such a bashful creature had been tasked with ruling a Kingdom almost inspired compassion in the concubine. However, before such traitorous sympathies could take form, Ong quickly buried them deep down, urging his mind to go elsewhere.

 

Abruptly, the King’s gaze finally shifted to regard the man in front of him. Seongwoo’s thoughts halted. 

 

Their gazes locked with one another, and Seongwoo felt time stop around them.

 

He could not tell what things were running through the King’s head; the concubine struggled to sort out even his own thoughts. For the first time the two were facing one another face to face without any physical restraints or separation. Though the two could not rightly be called equals with their current status, Seongwoo still felt as if they were facing one another as two simple humans. For the first time, the King got to genuinely meet his concubine.

 

How long the two stood like that, Seongwoo did not know.

 

Was it seconds, minutes even?

 

It nearly felt like hours.

 

The two had stood merely staring at one another, trying to figure the other out as their own thoughts and motivations brewed beneath their eyes. Finally, the silence was broken.

 

King Daniel’s eyes took an extended trip up and down Seongwoo’s body, “You look…” He labored to find a word he deemed appropriate, “...Beautiful.” His words authentic.

 

Seongwoo’s heart staggered a bit. The concubine had prepared himself mentally for many outcomes as he’d been dragged to the palace as a slave. He’d already gone over the possibilities of being beaten, raped, and used in his head; his busy imagination had run through countless disturbing scenarios. While he knew he wasn’t entirely ready to face every dangerous situation that could come his way, he at least had mentally considered the probability.

 

What he had not contemplated was the prospect of being complimented. When confronted with one, his internal defenses failed him completely; for a mere moment the mass of disquiet pulsating in his chest tingled with traces of thrill. Upon recognizing the familiar tickle inside him, Seongwoo’s anxiety tripled, mercilessly choking out any unwelcome sensations. The concubine realized he must have looked distressed, because the King’s expression shifted to one of concern.

 

“I… Are you alright?” King Daniel asked.

 

Seongwoo finally responded to the man, nodding, “Ah- Yes.” He didn’t know what to say. Part of him wanted to tell the King what he thought about his imperialism, punch him in the face, and bolt; another part desired to inform the man what a prick he had employed as one of his highest ranking generals. Then there was the sliver within him, that primal, rebellious fragment of his soul, that fantasized about meeting his highness under different circumstances. Once again the many urges fighting to prevail within him got caught in his throat.

 

Finally, Ong committed to letting one portion of his character show, the one he considered the safest,“My apologies, your highness. I admit I am quite anxious. This is all new to me.” When in doubt, obedience seemed to be Seongwoo’s safest bet, in his opinion. He did not particularly enjoy it, but being compliant assured he kept his head in the meantime. Save for the orchestration of the destruction of multiple surrounding Kingdoms, King Daniel had done little to  _ personally  _ offend Seongwoo. That was more than half the people walking around the castle could say, and for that reason Ong felt a bit less irked by playing the role of the good concubine for the evening.

 

King Daniel chuckled, a small smile teasing at the edge of his lips, “I have been attending parties at court for decades, but I still get nervous, too. You will be fine. You needn’t speak much if you don’t want to- not even to me.” Seongwoo bit back his gut reaction of, “I wouldn’t have to be nervous about this if it wasn’t for you.” 

 

Instead, the concubine replied, “Thank you, your highness. I suppose I have little to worry about if I am to be by your side.” He tried giving the King a small grin; he reckoned flattery in addition to his deference would further assure his safety. The King snorted though Ong didn’t think his comment humorous in the least.

 

“You are good with words. I will do my best to earn this confidence you’ve put in me.” Seongwoo thought it a weird response. No King he had ever heard of before had openly engaged in self deprecation, especially in the presence of those beneath him. The concubine wondered if it was in his highness’s nature to be so candid, but he saw little point in thinking too much about it.

 

Seongwoo wanted to ask, “Why are you being so kind to me?”, but he stopped himself. It suddenly dawned on him how easy it must have been for Guanlin to warp his own perspective to what he’d told Ong earlier. He repeated to himself internally: King Daniel is not kind, he is not your ally, and he will never be anything more than the man who ruined your life. 

 

The concubine felt a bit sheepish and avoided the King’s eyes, “Once again, I give my thanks, your highness. M-may I ask you something?”

 

“What is it, Seongwoo?” Something about being called by his name made the concubine flinch. 

 

“Um- Where exactly do we go from here? As I said, I am new to this. I was informed you were to call on me but given no further detail.”

 

“Oh. Well, you are ready, yes?” 

 

Seongwoo nodded in response.

 

“Then there is just one more thing to do,” King Daniel said. He closed what little gap the two had left between them, and Ong felt nerves grasp the inside of his chest and throat anew. The King had stopped less than a hand’s length away. He could feel his highness’s breath tickling his face. The concubine’s eyes widened for a second, terrified of what the man had planned to do to him. He clenched his sweaty fists, half considering revisiting his initial punch and run tactic.

 

_ “Click.” _

 

Ong blinked confusedly, looking down at his chest. King Daniel had fastened something to the hoop of his leather collar. A gleaming metal chain encrusted with luminous gems cascaded down from his neck. Black leather wrapped around the last link, a dark loop of hide created for the purpose of leading whosoever found themselves on the other end. 

 

In that instant every butterfly flapping around inside Seongwoo’s chest fell limp to the ground. The stark truth revealed itself, albeit gayly. No matter how much makeup or cloth or jewels the Kingdom’s people hung over Seongwoo, he knew his place. He was painfully aware that at the end of the day, he was but an ornament, a toy or a pet. Keen bitterness began setting in.

 

The King appeared to have caught on, casting his pupils downward, “I am sorry, it’s… It is custom.” His lips curled into a futile attempt at a comforting smile, but his guilt easily bled through. 

 

Ong nodded silently in response. 

 

“Thank you for understanding…” His highness muttered. The only thing Seongwoo understood was that the Kang Kingdom’s customs were lecherous and inhumane, but he neglected to mention that. 

 

King Daniel sighed nervously, giving Seongwoo another look before opening the concubine’s bedroom door. He gestured for the other to leave alongside him. Ong felt thankful that the man courteously allowed him to maintain at least some dignity by keeping his hand off the lead coming from his collar.

 

* * *

 

It felt immensely strange to the concubine; he was about to truly cement himself as the King’s concubine. Though he’d been presented in front of court, he now walked by the man’s side as some sort of companion. Expectations were unceremoniously plopped in his lap. Seongwoo quickly realized that no lessons of proper etiquette or court formalities had been given to him, and he wondered how he was supposed to fare under such conditions. Unfortunately, the concubine had little time to ruminate on such things. They quickly drew nearer to their destination.

 

Music grew louder as the two approached the celebration. A few nobles could be spotted passing through the open doors of the ballroom; those whom they bowed to regard his royal  highness, muttering polite greetings. He swore he could feel the King grip his chain more tightly whenever people walked by; the concubine wasn’t sure if it was to remind him to stay in line or if the King was doing so unconsciously. Wrist loosely wrapped in the chain’s leather loop, his highness rested his hands on the concubine’s back and guided him toward the threshold of the ballroom.

 

When the two appeared in the doorway, all heads turned to them. Seongwoo’s pupils shook, but he kept them down for the most part. He snuck a few glances when he could, watching everyone bow as he walked past, nodding politely. He even caught the sight a few familiar faces; some of his fellow concubines took their own Master’s side at the affair. Even the guitarist with the mandu cheeks gave a shallow bow as his fingers kept busy, strumming a soothing tune. With a gesture, King Daniel prompted the attendees to resume their activities once more, and the soft echo of laughter and conversation quickly enveloped the ballroom. Seongwoo idly followed the King’s lead, but his eyes roamed freely. 

 

The space was quite large, but packed with so many people it almost felt small and intimate. Polished wood in different shades of brown had been used to form a delicate floral pattern on the floor. Textiles had been draped in a comely fashion across the corinthian pillars that lined the perimeter of the space. Courtiers sprawled throughout the room; some danced in the middle of the ballroom while others occupied the nooks between pillars, leaning on walls or sitting on the richly crafted cushions and benches. 

 

King Daniel and Seongwoo’s arrival seemed to signal some sort of advancement of the festivities. Servants took their ruler’s arrival as a queue to begin handing out crystal goblets, pouring wine into them from exquisitely crafted silver carafes. The hand at the small of the concubine’s back guided him toward the opposite end of the room where, upon a raised platform, sat a canopied throne. The ballroom’s throne did not look as grand as the one Seongwoo had seen in the dedicated throne chamber, but it still looked opulent with its painted gold trim complimented the plush velvet cushion. Behind the throne a tapestry with the castle’s crest hung proudly.

 

King Daniel leaned over to his concubine and whispered, “You will stand to my right, slightly behind my throne. Do you understand?” Seongwoo wanted to blurt out, “All night?!” but nodded instead. Ascending the platform, his highness’s face transformed from one with shifting pupils to an expression of dignified serenity. The King sat down on the throne, and Seongwoo took his place to the right, slightly behind the seat as the King had requested. Servants rushed over to their spots, handing both the concubine and his Master a goblet full of deep burgundy liquid. A hush fell over the guests as the King took his place, and all eyes regarded him.

 

His highness looked over his subjects silently for a moment; his gaze had a quality of reverence, communicating respect and appreciation. The royal’s lips curved into a genial smile, nothing so large as to wrinkle his eyes, but enough to look authentic.

 

Lifting his glass, the King addressed the guests, “Dear guests,” He started, “Thank you courtiers for joining us on this fine evening. Tonight we shall celebrate the eagerly anticipated arrival of a good friend of the court and myself: Duke Hwang Minhyun. Before continuing, a prayer…”

 

Seongwoo zoned out from the proceedings as a priest approached the platform to bless this or that or the other. Everyone in the room bowed their heads and he took the opportunity to sneak a few more peeks at the nobles of the Kang Kingdom. He wasn’t sure what - if anything at all - his actions would yield, but he liked to derive value from every bit of information he could get, no matter how small it may seem. 

 

Ong almost immediately identified the man that must have been the Duke. Everything about him, his figure, his aura, looked familiar. He stood tall, head respectfully bowed and his hands crossed in front of him. His complexion looked impossibly pale in contrast to his shining, black hair. Even in prayer, the man’s posture and the air around him communicated regality. Seongwoo’s eyes slipped away from the Duke, searching once more for something of interest. 

 

Another familiar face cropped out of the crowd. Prince Daehwi. He, too, stood with effortless grace. Just as Sungwoon had told him, he looked completely innocent. Slender and tall with plush lips and glowing skin. The prince looked like a child with his eyes downcast in devotion. The concubine knew that he would cross paths with the young man, but when and how it would occur only God could see.

 

Seongwoo spotted a few more people that he recognized as he continued to glance around. Sungwoon nearly disappeared behind taller members of the crowd. The man he stood next to was the King’s advisor, Yoon Jisung. It struck Ong that despite spending a wealth of time in Sungwoon’s presence, he knew nothing about the man whom the other called “Master”. 

 

Lai Guanlin shifted his weight from one foot to the other impatiently. Ong thought the young chick was probably bored out of his mind. He wondered if Guanlin had any other friends his age around the castle; he hoped he did. Something about seeing the younger one surrounded by older courtiers and concubines made Seongwoo pity the boy. Ong then remembered how vividly Guanlin had described his life in the castle to him; he decided that the youth would fare just fine, if only in the meanwhile. There were a few more familiar concubines that Seongwoo had seen in the baths and a few nobles he thought he’d passed by in the castle. Before the concubine could do anymore gawking, the priest finished his prayer, and everyone lifted their heads.

 

King Daniel lifted his goblet, saying, “...Amen. Well, then… I see no more reason to hesitate. To Duke Hwang.” The herd in front of him lifted their own goblets, echoing their King’s simple toast. Together the flock of nobles, musicians, and concubines took a drink of their wine, signifying the true beginning of the night’s celebration. The guitarist promptly began strumming once more, this time with a more upbeat tune, and dancers began swaying and twirling to the rhythm.

 

Seongwoo eyed the King, hoping the man would give him some guidance as to what would happen next. Luckily he did not need to wait long; before King Daniel could even move to get up Duke Hwang approached the throne.

 

The handsome nobleman gave his highness a bow before speaking, careful to keep his goblet level. “King Daniel.”

 

“Duke Hwang,” King Daniel greeted the man with a smile, “It is a pleasure to see you again. I am glad you could make your annual trip to the castle early this year.”

 

“I suppose it is, isn’t it? Apologies if it serves as any inconvenience to you, your highness.”

 

“Not at all.” The King reassured him. “I am happy to see you.” His highness stood up, to speak to the man more directly.

 

“As I am you, your highness.” The Duke gave a charming smile, “Of course I do have some business with you-”

 

“To be expected, of course.”

 

“Yes, however… You have gone to the trouble of arranging this party…”

 

“It was no trouble at all. Duke- Minhyun.” The King shed his formalities, something that did not go unnoticed by the concubine. “You are not only an incredibly important member of our nobility, but you are also a dear friend. I understand it has been nearly a decade since we took lessons together, but that does not make our time spent together any less valuable. Please,” Daniel took of Minhyun’s hand, giving him a warm smile. “Enjoy your party. We can talk business whenever you like. You know you’re free to spend as much time here at court as you need.”

 

Duke Hwang returned the King’s smile with one of his own, “So sentimental after all these years… You are truly too kind King Daniel.”

 

“So I’m told.” The King chuckled. Duke Hwang laughed with him; even his laughter sounded deliberate and stately.

 

“I will send my messenger tomorrow with a good meeting time.”

 

“Excellent.”

 

“Oh- and before I’m off to mingle, I must know-” For the first time in the conversation, Duke Hwang acknowledged the concubine standing to the King’s side. “ _ -Who _ is this?” The Duke eyed Seongwoo with the kind of awe someone looked at a child or particularly adorable pet with. The concubine despised it.

 

“Wh- Oh.” King Daniel flushed slightly; he smiled reflexively in response to the twinge of visible discomfort that he felt. “This is my ward, Seongwoo.” The King gestured for his concubine to step forward. Seongwoo obliged, taking the King’s side; however, he remained silent, with his gaze fixed to the ground.

 

“Y-Your ward?” Duke Hwang asked; the man had shed his mask of majesty as his face blossomed with enthusiastic curiosity. “You? As in the King? Wh- I thought you’d never take a concubine. You swore up and down that it was- how did you put it? ‘Inhumane’ or some other saccharine hangup…” Apparently the Duke had truly discarded his reservations about speaking to the King; as soon as talk of the concubine came up he spoke much more personally.

 

The King laughed awkwardly, “I- Yes, I suppose I did say that. I suppose I… Changed my mind.” 

 

The Duke circled Seongwoo, appraising the concubine; his grin widened, “Well thank God. We all thought- well, nevermind that. What made you change your mind? Was it this one?” He pointed to Seongwoo. The concubine wished he could bite the Duke’s finger off.

 

“What made me change my mind?” His highness said, his tone doing little to mask that the question had taken him off guard. “I… Well… Yes. Yes, when I saw this one...” Seongwoo wondered if the Duke believed the King’s words because he certainly did not. King Daniel sounded more convincing as he continued speaking,“Well, Jihoon had actually found him.”

 

“Ah, a prize taken on his last tour?”

 

“Precisely. The General gave me this beautiful gift and I could not imagine a world in which I denied it.”

 

“The General has excellent taste,” The Duke nodded, sipping his wine. “Well I am glad you’ve taken one. Trust me, your highness, when you are feeling most stressed or high strung… It makes such a difference.” Seongwoo swore he could feel the bile rising in his throat; he suppressed the instinct to clench his fists or make a face. His only consolation in being a part of the conversation was that the King seemed twice as uncomfortable as the concubine was. Ong admitted to himself that he found it terribly amusing.

 

“Thank you, Minhyun, for your… Insight.” His highness said, taking a long sip of his wine. Though both the King and his concubine would both have been content to move on, Minhyun still seemed very interested in the King’s ward.

 

“You are quite lucky to have happened upon such a beauty… Seongwoo, you said?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Wow…” The Duke’s eyes took a few trips up and down Seongwoo’s body, “Does he speak?”

 

“He does. When spoken to, anyways.”

  
“I should have asked earlier. My apologies.” Minhyun turned to look Seongwoo in the eye. “I am Duke Hwang Minhyun. The King and I do go back quite a few years, but… I am busy with a duchy now. Boring, noble, economic things they are. It is my pleasure to meet you, though. Oh, please tell me about yourself.” He gave a polite nod.

 

Seongwoo blinked confusedly for a few moments before composing himself. “W-well his highness did introduce me. My name is Seongwoo. I am new here and still learning. I have not much more to say about myself.” He bowed. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Duke Hwang.”

 

The Duke grinned widely, “Adorable.” Was all he said in response. “Well, your highness, if I may be dismissed, there are others with whom I would like to catch up with.”

 

“Of course.” With a nod, King Daniel dismissed Duke Hwang. The tall noble gave another bow of respect before gliding off into the crowd of dancing and chatting courtiers. King Daniel soon followed the Duke’s cue and entered the crowd himself.

 

The next hour or so continued not unlike the conversation with the Duke. Nobles of various rank approached, sparking polite conversation with the King. Seongwoo would stand by silently through the majority; though, occasionally he was given the opportunity to introduce himself. The concubine then stood by as people spoke to the King about anything: the last time they’d met, the Duke’s last visit, the current economic conditions, their newest painting or piece of jewelry or important vase… Conversations droned on for an amount of time Seongwoo estimated to be near a year - at least, it felt like it.

 

While most people regarded his highness with a certain level of tact and humbleness, a few asked similarly uncomfortable questions to the Duke’s queries. Seongwoo had to stand by as people inquired about how “fun” he was, if he was a “bouncy ride”, or what made his highness decide to “finally grow up”. His highness managed to take all of these in stride, remaining surprisingly cool as he answered everything as diplomatically and appropriately as he could. The concubine, however, felt much less diplomatic when faced with such prying, patronizing questioning. His only consolation in this was that servants readily refilled his goblet any time it went empty, and it did not take long for the familiar blurry hum of alcohol to take hold of his system. After some lord and lady had finished chatting about the farms on their land, King Daniel finally took a moment to speak to his concubine.

 

“Seongwoo,” He whispered, leaning closely toward his concubine’s ear.

 

Seongwoo shivered as the man’s breath tickled his earlobe. He replied, “Yes, your highness?”

 

“I apologize for… All of this. You have been very proper all evening. I appreciate it. I have something to ask of you.”

 

Seongwoo quirked an eyebrow, “What do you need, Master?”

 

“Well, if you look around, I am sure you see that not all concubines are at their Master’s side. Part of your role here and at court is to entertain, to socialize. Can you do that?”

 

“You’re asking me to… Socialize, Master?”

 

King Daniel nodded, “Yes. Please, free yourself of me if you so desire. Of course, if you feel most comfortable at my side, you are free to join me for the night’s entirety. I just… Thought you may want to break free a bit.” His highness looked at the concubine earnestly.

 

“I- Of course, your highness. I most certainly can socialize and entertain.” Seongwoo couldn’t tell if the King truly wanted to help acclimate him to court life or if he just wanted to rid himself of the concubine so he didn’t have to endure uncomfortable questions. It made little difference, freedom from being a decoration for boring conversations sounded good to Seongwoo.

 

“Very well, then.” The King nodded. “Perhaps you have made friends among the other concubines you can find. Oh, that reminds me, one more thing-” His highness lifted his wrist, slipping his hand out of the leather loop attached to Seongwoo’s lead. The concubine’s eyebrows raised in surprise. He’d nearly forgotten there was a lead at all; had the King not removed his hand he would have likely started walking only to get jerked backwards. A twinge of shame ran through Seongwoo’s body. In just a few hours he’d gotten used to having a lead affixed to him. Something about that felt immensely bad to him.

 

Seongwoo nodded, muttering thanks before tucking the leather loop into his vest. He and the King exchanged polite parting statements before the concubine strode off in no particular direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // first of all I would love to thank you all for reading up to this point ^^. i know the story has been a bit slow in these stages so I thank you for continuing to be interested in my story regardless~ if you have any questions or want to just talk/get updates on your dashboard please follow my tumblr: 0kkultic.tumblr.com


	10. Being Dragged (In and Out Of Many Conversations)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 10 WARNING(s): explicit language, sexual harassment

Seongwoo didn’t pay much mind to his unceremonious release from custody. He thought it strange his highness had let him loose so mindlessly, but decided to see it as a blessing. Skirting around the edges of the room seemed like an appealing option; the concubine doubted anyone truly expected to spark up a conversation with him. He certainly hoped so. He wasn’t sure if he could endure another noble prying him about the King’s private life.

 

With the subtle blur of wine hazing his vision, Seongwoo took a nondescript spot at the room’s perimeter and watched the people dance, chat and drink. The scene did not look unlike the one he’d seen just a day prior. Though it’d been a mere day, it could have been weeks as far as Ong was concerned.

 

It almost frightened Seongwoo to consider the passage of time. About a week prior he had been captured, dragged out of the brutalized remains of what once stood as a village. Just days before that event, the provincial place could likely have been called one of the most boring places in existence.

 

In a matter of days, everything had changed.

 

Thinking further back - days to weeks, months, and years - made everything feel unbelievably surreal to Seongwoo. He couldn’t help but lament the chain of events that brought him to Jeon Castle. The Prince’s words echoed in his head. “Glean some positives”, he’d told the concubine. He understood the idea, but part of him felt like to gather any sort of positivity from his experience would be betraying himself and those lost to the Kang invasions. Seongwoo looked into his cup of wine as if the dark, inky liquid held the answers to his life’s questions.

 

“Hiding?” A girl’s voice penetrated Seongwoo’s contemplations. The concubine scarcely suppressed his urge to jump.

 

“I-I-” Ong eyed the young woman up and down. She wore a beautiful gown of gold and green silks and her hair had been neatly curled and pulled back from her face. Though she wore few jewels, the ones that adorned her were clearly fine. She was surely no older than twenty years of age, probably less if Seongwoo had to guess. Why in heavens a noble girl would approach a concubine was beyond him.

 

Collecting himself, Seongwoo bowed to greet the girl, “Apologies, I was startled. It is a pleasure to meet you…” He trailed off.

 

“Countess Kim Yerim,” Despite the jarring difference in status, the young woman gave a curtsey, a grin on her face. “You shall call me Yeri, though.” Ong wondered if indulging noble girls was part of the “entertainment” Sungwoon had mentioned to him awhile prior.

 

“Countess Yeri.” Ong nodded, “I am Seongwoo the King’s….” For some reason saying the words aloud pained Seongwoo. All he needed to say was “I am the King’s concubine”. The fact was plain and simple, yet he strained to say it.

 

“I know who you are! You’re his highness’s concubine” Yeri beamed, taking a sip of her wine. Ong secretly felt relieved.

 

He wondered if even effervescent, youthful noble girls liked to pry about the King’s private life. Upon further consideration, Ong concluded that young ladies were probably _very_ interested in his highness’s private life; King Daniel was clearly handsome and acted kind, at least in the eyes of the public. Most importantly: he was _eligible_. Every woman in the kingdom likely dreamt of taking his highness’s hand in marriage. The concubine braced himself for more awkward questions, dejected that the King himself could not act as a social barrier.

 

“This is your first party at court, isn’t it?” Yeri asked.

 

“So it is.” Seongwoo responded with a nod. He studied the girl’s mannerisms and expressions, searching for any allusion as to what she wanted with a concubine. It occurred to him that someone may want to use him to gain favor with the King or something of the sort. He thought that perhaps it was that.

 

“ _And_? What do you think of your first soirée at Castle Jeon?” She shimmied her shoulders to emphasize her question.

 

The animated gesture drew a small but genuine smile from Ong, and he answered,“For what I was told is a small gathering… It’s quite grand. Everything- and everyone- here is beautiful.  I feel privileged to be allowed at such an event.” The last part was a blatant lie, but Yeri seemed to buy it. Seongwoo wondered if it was the alcohol or her own naivety that made the noble girl believe him.

 

Yeri nodded, glancing out at the crowd, “You’re quite right about that. Everything here at court is quite rich and very pretty.” She blatantly looked at Seongwoo when she said the word “pretty” before continuing, “They’re also boring.”

 

“Oh? What makes you say such a thing?”

 

“I’d love to tell you all about it, but first,” Yeri grabbed Seongwoo’s goblet, setting it down on a nearby bench next to her own, “Dance with me.” It took Ong a moment to register the request. Never in his life had he seen a woman approach a man to request him as a dance partner.  His only guess as to why she’d acted so boldly was that concubines ranked lower, and, as objects of entertainment, were obligated to oblige individuals who asked such things of them. “Oh, come on, surely you can dance. It’s just a basse.” The noble girl reassured him, extending her hand.

 

“Of course,” Seongwoo said, collecting himself. He took the girl’s hand and followed her closer to the center of the room where people danced. His eyes darted around in search of others like him, and much to his relief a few other concubines seemed to be fraternizing animatedly with the nobles; some danced, others laughed and conversed. Seongwoo and Yeri reached the dance floor, and the concubine bowed deeply to signify the start of their dance. Pleased, Yeri curtseyed once more, and they joined hands again.

 

The basse was a simple dance, something any person with two functioning legs could do, and Seongwoo had no trouble leading Yeri as they began stepping in time with the music. First left, then right, then two more in each direction. The odd pair of concubine and noble girl stumbled a bit upon reaching the demarche, not quite matching with the time, but they quickly recovered and by their second round of steps they’d gotten the hang of things. Being a slow paced dance, the basse made for the perfect complement to their conversation.

 

“You’re quite good at dancing. Have you danced in a court before?” Yeri asked as she accompanied Ong’s steps with ease.

 

“W-well… May I tell you a secret, Countess?” As Ong had anticipated, she looked absolutely thrilled by the response.

 

“First off, please, drop the ‘Countess’. My father is the _real_ count, I merely am given the title due to patrimony. Secondly, I would love to hear a secret.”

 

“My secret is… I always wanted to be a dancer. When I was young, I would practice in hiding.” He said.

 

Yeri giggled, “A dancer! How scandalous. If it serves as any consolation, I think you make a beautiful dancer. You know sometimes the concubines dance for the court themselves- or, so I’ve heard. I haven’t been to one of those functions yet, but, you know, Prince Daehwi’s ward is also quite a skilled dancer.”

 

“Interesting.” Seongwoo gave Yeri a grin, “It’s nice to know I have something in common with my peers.” He felt strange calling someone obviously years younger than him a “peer”, but the peculiarity paled in comparison to anything else that had happened to him in the past week.

 

“I bet the King will be thrilled to hear of your secret talent. There is no need to keep it a secret anymore! I adore that- you know, a secret hobby like that. Everyone here has secrets, but they’re so boring.”

 

Ong chuckled, “So you told me. Have you been here long?”

 

Yeri groaned, “Since the fall. Of course my parents _had_ to discard me here when the weather began to take a turn for the worst.”

 

“Discard you? For what reason would anyone want to be rid of your splendid company?”

 

“Good at dancing and good with words. I knew I liked you, Seongwoo.” Yeri giggled. “They didn’t say _in words_ that they wanted to discard me. I believe what they said was that I would be most likely to find, oh what did they say… Upright suitors? Or was it ‘deserving’... Essentially I will not return home until I’ve married into a title they like. I tell you, it is absolute drudgery, Seongwoo.”

 

“Drudgery?”

 

“The parties, the meetings, the courting, the gossip, the ‘being a proper lady’...” The countess rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “I think I am destined to be an old maid.”

 

Seeing a girl in her teens resign herself to a life of solitude so soon elicited some much needed laughter from the concubine.

 

“Seongwoo!” Yeri pouted, “It is not funny. I shall rot in my father’s estate, bear no children, have nothing of my own all because- because-”

 

“Because what?” Ong asked between chuckles.

 

“-Because the men at court are,” She lowered her voice, “They’re _awful_.” Seongwoo had never agreed with someone in the castle so much.

 

“Am I to understand that I, too, am awful?”

 

“Hm…” Yeri made a show of looking as if she was in deep thought. After finally finishing her thorough analysis, she said, “Seongwoo is an exception.”

 

“How lucky I am to be an exception to the ‘men at court are awful’ law.”

 

“Yes, you are.” The countess looked satisfied, “That is why I am so much happier to dance with a concubine than, well… Any of them.”

 

“Are they really so terrible? You cannot present such damning words without some sort of corroboration.” Ong quirked an eyebrow.

 

“They’re just… Ergh. All they ever care about is themselves. It’s all about their estates and their land and their trade routes, blah, blah blah… I believe I have perfected the ability sleep with my eyes open during my time here.”

 

“That does sound a bit dry. I think noble men like to talk about all that to look secure- or, well, to basically show off. At least you can feel flattered they are interested.”

 

“Money and security are important. Of course that is why I am here, but…” Yeri’s smile faltered slightly, “I am not one of those girls who lives in some fantasy world in which I believe I will marry for love. I don’t… Every person wants it, but I don’t need it. I just- I just want someone who is… Fun? A man who I can laugh with that doesn’t make me want to blind myself when I look at him. Perhaps that sounds sillier than asking for love.”

 

“That’s not silly at all.” Seongwoo said. He gave a reassuring smile, “Nor is wanting love or desire with your future husband.” Ong didn’t honestly believe those words, but despite everything he pitied the girl; unmarried noble women had little more agency than a concubine. Seongwoo decided to redirect the conversation to avoid speaking further about the rather touchy subject.

 

“Now, you said that all the men at court are awful, but I have to ask… What about the King? I must admit it is surprising that he’s yet to be wed.” He wondered if she would say anything ill of him to his highness’s concubine or if she would keep her lips sealed to avoid any potential repercussions.

 

“I wish!” Were the first words out of Yeri’s mouth. She swooned. “His highness is so handsome and cool and nice and- Ugh! Seongwoo you are so lucky to know him so… Intimately.” Ong suddenly regretted his words. “Anyways, who wouldn’t want to be a Queen? Of course, he would not court me even in my dreams.”

 

“What makes you so sure? You are charming and beautiful. Though I can’t say I know you very well, you also seem quite intellectual. If nothing else, you are an excellent dancer, Countess.”

 

“You flatter me, Seongwoo. While I do appreciate your indulgence, you and I both know a woman with my title could never marry into a queendom. He would need to marry a Queen or a Princess.”

 

“I suppose you are right.” Ong conceded, “Has he courted anyone since your arrival at the Castle?”

 

“His highness? Court a woman? You are new here.” Yeri laughed. “If he has been courting someone, she must be invisible. His highness is always polite and obliging, complimentary even. We all adore, him, we really do, but…”

 

“But…?”

 

“He does not seem to adore us. He always looks at us quite coolly. It may just be a King thing, I suppose- to be so… Composed.”

 

Composed was certainly not a word Seongwoo thought would be attributed to King Daniel.

 

Yeri continued, “Or maybe he is betrothed and his spouse is not yet of age. Then again I haven’t heard anything of the sort… No, I… I just think he’s not very interested right now. Strange, isn’t it?”

 

“I suppose it is.” Ong replied. “Most royalty is eager to form strong alliances and produce heirs- at least, that is my impression.”

 

“Exactly. And with all the deaths in the past decades you would think he’d be in a rush to stabilize the line of succession- wait. Don’t tell his highness I’ve said any of this.”

 

“You have my word, countess.” Seongwoo nodded. “I understand my position puts me very close to the King physically, but I assure you I will keep your confidence. I gain nothing from spreading our conversation.”

 

“Seongwoo you are a blessing.” The countess giggled. “But- yes- I just… You see, if anything happens to King Daniel, Prince Daehwi is next in line by some… Obscure relation.”

 

“I’d heard that. It is a bit different, though. So... The entire Kang line is unfit to inherit the throne?”

 

“Seongwoo… He _is_ the entire Kang line.”

 

“Oh.” Ong said. The concubine couldn’t help but glance in the King’s direction. Across the room he could see King Daniel surrounded by nobles. His highness appeared to be incredibly humored by something, his eyes reduced to mere crescents while his nose scrunched with laughter. “He _is_ the Kang line”, those words rang in his mind clearly. He knew it to be so, but hearing the words spoken so plainly caused a hollow to form in his chest.

 

“I apologize, I forget you are new here.” Yeri’s voice woke Seongwoo up from his mental ramblings. “I was a child when most if it happened, but I heard it has been quite a mess.”  


“A mess?”

 

“Yes- Well, this whole line of succession nonsense and all this changing leadership. First the Kim family, then the Jeons… They held on for quite long, a few decades I believe. Now it is him. Should anything happen, it’s Prince Daehwi, then… I’m sorry. This is the kind of boring talk I complain about and now I am subjecting you to this.”

 

“No apology necessary. I-I suppose I am a subject of this Kingdom, too. I need to educate myself.” Another lie, Ong did not consider himself a subject of any Kingdom, but the countess certainly did not know that and it excused him.

 

“You can educate yourself later. Right now we should talk about something more fun.”

 

“More fun… Well, on the topic of suitors… What do you think of Duke Hwang?”

 

Yeri swooned once more with a seemingly renewed spirit. “He does not come often- yearly, I believe- so I haven’t met him, but… He is as elegant as the girls in court have been telling me. He’s truly a fox, isn’t he?”

 

“He certainly seems like the aspirational noble. Fair, tall, well-spoken… Have you been introduced to him?”

 

“I- Wh- No! I- I could never-” Yeri sputtered, her pupils rapidly shifting from Ong’s face to the direction of the Duke. “C-could I? I mean… A duchy.” Seongwoo could see Yeri dreaming up fantasies right before his eyes.

 

“I am clearly unsuited to the task, but… Perhaps a well respected friend of yours here could introduce you. Unless he seems to be too boring, or ‘awful’ as you put it.”

 

“It is unfair to judge someone so swiftly, I may need to do some research before categorizing him,” Yeri mused. “And I doubt he will bore me. With a face like his, he could describe the blades of grass in the gardens and I would be entertained. He could spend hours lecturing me on every single flaw I have and I would thank him.”

 

“Have someone introduce you!”

 

“I… No, I really… I can’t I… With his status would he look at me? I bet other girls with dowries thrice the value of mine are approaching him right now.”

 

“They may have bigger dowries, but I bet their charms cannot compare.”

 

The countess squeezed the concubine’s hand as she looked in the Duke’s direction nervously, “I… I mean-”

 

“What is the worst that can happen? That he speaks to some other person in the conversation more than you? That his eyes linger longer on someone else’s?”

 

“What if I trip and fall and- and- humiliate myself? What if he trips because of me and injures himself? What if I accidentally offend him!? What if-”

 

“Yeri, I promise none of those things will happen. You have been training all your life to find a suitor, yes?”

 

“Yes, I have…”

 

“You find the Duke interesting, right?”

 

“More than interesting.”

 

“And do you not want a husband who is interesting and handsome? He will not be here forever, take your chance!” Seongwoo hadn’t anticipated giving motivational talks when he’d arrived at the castle; then again, many things had come up that he hadn’t expected. Jeon Castle continued to surprise him, and he felt grateful that at least in that instance the surprise wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

 

“You know… You’re right, Seongwoo. Oh, how I wish I could have a Seongwoo to keep for my own…” She let go of his hand and gave a quick curtsey with a beaming smile.

 

“Don’t hesitate on my behalf. Go find someone to introduce you to the Duke.”

 

“O-okay! Yes, right-” She lifted her skirt, scurrying past Seongwoo. Looking at the concubine over her shoulder, she gave him her parting words, “One last thing: you are _not_ allowed to be a stranger, Seongwoo.” Ong nodded, giving her a smile and a nod as she scampered off.

 

His eyes lingered on the countess as she eagerly trotted off, curious as to why such a creature had taken interest in a concubine at all. Whatever her reason, the concubine felt grateful for it; their rather lighthearted exchange left him feeling refreshed. He honestly believed that his interactions with nobles had peaked for the night; it would likely not get better than meeting Yeri.

 

Seongwoo strode off in an aimless direction, and he hoped sincerely that he would have no need to meet any more courtiers. With a laugh, he realized he truly shared Yeri’s opinion: the men of court were quite awful.

 

* * *

 

“...and then he started crying, bless him!” A slender concubine snickered.

 

“Ugh,” Another young man sighed dramatically; Ong recalled the man introducing himself as Hyunbin. After Yeri had departed, Seongwoo tried to tear himself away from the courtiers. Unfortunately, he found little success and managed to find himself sucked into miscellaneous conversations at the hands of his peers. They probably thought they were helping their fellow man leave the nest, but in reality Ong’s only desire was to drink, stand aside, and watch.

 

First, it had been Sungwoon. He’d eagerly introduced Ong to his own Master, Jisung. The King’s advisor genuinely surprised Ong with how expressive and affable he’d been. The concubine had always thought of the King’s right hand man as the more stark, critical type. In truth, Jisung was the complete opposite.

 

Even more peculiar was how the advisor’s energetic nature even seemed to draw such behavior out of fussy Sungwoon. He’d never seen his guide smile or laugh so much. Conversation between the two flowed so effortlessly that Seongwoo had felt as if he’d interrupted something private. ‘

 

He wondered what it would be like to feel so at ease with someone you were obligated to call ‘Master’. It puzzled him. Sungwoon did not strike Ong as the type to merely take things lying down or be okay with any of the conventional concubine treatment. As Seongwoo’s guide, Sungwoon had enforced the Kingdom’s traditions, but he did not follow those traditions himself.

 

Something else had occurred to Seongwoo.

 

He’d then realized just how little he knew about Sungwoon. He made a mental note to remedy that in due time; however, in that moment, Sungwoon and Jisung’s sweet gazes and flirtations had sickened Ong enough. He nearly cried with joy when someone else came along and pulled him aside.

 

Young Samuel, Prince Daehwi’s concubine, had shyly asked Ong to follow him, which he did. Samuel had introduced Ong to his Master and the Prince offered condolences for the unideal circumstances under which they had met. Seongwoo felt uncomfortable about the meeting; luckily for him, it was brief and formal.

 

When he had thought that he was finally in the clear, yet _another_ concubine had pulled Seongwoo into his current social circle in which he had been for at least thirty minutes. He reunited with Hyunbin and met Sanggyun, both of whom were draped around some rather inebriated looking noblemen.

 

“Am I so wrong to be touched by a moving ballad?” Hyunbin laughed. For someone so large, he gave off a surprisingly child-like aura. “Now- Seongwoo, I know you have not been to court often, but trust me on this: you will hear this story at least a dozen more times just tonight. Sanggyun will not lay it to rest.”

 

“Oh, Hyunbinnie,” The slender one, Sanggyun, cooed, “We tell this story out of admiration. You have given us great memories and laughter for year to come.”

 

“I dare think that most people were not nearly as humored as you?”

 

“Oh? Seongwoo,” Sanggyun batted at Ong, “Have you ever cried when singing a ballad in front of a royal court?”

 

“It was my first time!” Hyunbin interjected. Despite his animated objections, he’d clearly come to terms with whatever humiliation may have occurred that day, joyfully remembering it in his own right.

 

“I admire Hyunbin,” Seongwoo cut in, “Had I done the same thing I would hide in my chambers for a month. Have you cried while singing since?”

 

“Why- No, I haven’t.” Hyunbin replied.

 

“Here, here!” One of the noblemen chirped, lifting his goblet, “I believe that is an achievement worth toasting to, yes?” The people in the circle lifted their glasses jokingly, muttering satirical toasts to praise Hyunbin’s astounding achievement. Hyunbin took it upon himself to tip his goblet into his noble’s lips, and Ong prayed the King would never, ever ask him to do such a thing. The other noble there was whispering in Sanggyun’s ear, and judging by the concubine’s grin, Ong guessed that the pair would soon be taking their leave.

 

Unsurprisingly, the conversation dissipated shortly after their joking toast. Sanggyun and his Master stumbled toward the hall and Hyunbin was whisked off into some other group’s affairs by his escort. Once again, the concubine internally heaved a sigh of relief.

 

Seongwoo had lost track of time and wasn’t quite sure how long it had been since he’d last touched base with his master. It wasn’t as if he wished to make contact with his highness; he merely did not want to unintentionally break any vague rules of court demeanor. The concubine half heartedly scanned the crowd for his Master for a second.

  
When the King did not vividly jump out to him, he gave up on his search. Ong embarked on a crucial personal mission of his own: the mission to remain attached to a wall for as long as he could possibly go unnoticed. He prayed that the novelty of his arrival had dimmed to the courtiers.

 

A servant offered Ong another chalice of wine which he graciously accepted. He kept a cold expression on his face, dissuading anyone from approaching him as he sipped his wine. For an indistinguishable amount of minutes, Seongwoo received his desire: a few blissful moments to himself. A few people eyed him as they passed, but not one dared speak to him.

 

People happily milled about, conversing and dancing. The crowd had thinned since the beginning of the night, but those present were still just as energetic as they had been after the first toast.

 

Seongwoo no longer felt surprise when yet another figure approached him, just disappointment. It wasn’t until he connected the dots and recognized the man that he felt any kind of surprise.

 

“Duke Hwang,” Seongwoo greeted the nobleman with a respectful bow.

 

The Duke nodded politely, “Seongwoo.” It honestly shocked Ong that Duke Hwang had remembered his name. He noticed that the man was alone, which also seemed very odd. “Have you enjoyed yourself?”

 

“I have. I have had the privilege of meeting some wonderful people. I’m truly grateful.” Ong felt like he was lying, but the statement rang _mostly_ true, save for some salacious nobles.

 

“Really? You seem a bit bored.” The Duke chuckled.

 

“I am sorry, if I look unhappy please take it as no reflection on-”

 

“Oh, no, that’s okay!” Duke Hwang cut him off holding up a reassuring hand. “I just suppose I wonder what an outsider may think about this kind of thing… Do you think you will get used to this, Seongwoo?”

 

“Time will tell, I suppose.”

 

“Court life has its perks… I spend most of my time at my estate. I often forget what fun it can be to be here.”

 

“I am glad you’re enjoying yourself, Duke.”

 

Duke Hwang chuckled quietly. He closed some of the distance between Ong and himself, leaning against a wall before speaking once more.

 

“I certainly am.” He said. “However, being here also makes me realize how much I enjoy quiet evenings with only my books for company…”

 

“Peace and quiet is something to be cherished.”

 

“Agreed. Agreed tenfold. Wise _and_ beautiful? You are too good to be true.”

 

Ong could feel his cheeks flush in embarrassment; not even he, a grown, very resentful man, was not immune to the Duke’s charms. After a second, sense returned to Seongwoo’s mind and he remembered the things Duke Hwang had said regarding concubines just hours earlier.

 

“I am inclined to think that affairs such as this may bore you after awhile.” Duke Hwang said, glancing out at the crowd.

 

“What makes you say such a thing?”

 

The Duke smiled, “Well, it has been mere hours and you are already doing one of my favorite techniques.”

 

“A technique?” Ong indulged him.

 

“Yes. I’ve yet to give it a proper title, but the working name is the ‘hide until it is socially acceptable for me to leave’ technique.”

 

“Ah, you know that one, too?” Seongwoo chuckled.

 

“I think I have perfected it.”

 

“Is that why we have run into one another here? If so, I think we have both failed spectacularly at avoiding speaking to others considering the fact that we are, in fact, speaking.”

 

“What a tragic turn of events this is.”

 

“Shall I leave your presence then? I genuinely do not wish to bother you.”

 

“Seongwoo, you are no bother at all. Actually, well…” Seongwoo tilted his head inquisitively. He wondered if the Duke’s candid quirkiness was typical of him or if the alcohol had slackened his strict spirit a bit.

 

“I think I shall leave soon, but I would like to know more about you before retiring to bed.” Duke Hwang finished his thought.

 

“It is growing quite late and you had a long day of travel prior to this. I am not going anywhere in the coming days, so surely you will see me in c- ”

 

Minhyun laughed. Seongwoo tried not to look too baffled as to why. A wide smile crossed the Duke’s fox-like face, and he leaned in close, whispering, “If the King allows it, I would love to borrow you for a night.”

 

Seongwoo’s brain ceased function momentarily. Any semblance of pleasantry completely vanished, it disintegrated into a million pieces. He questioned whether or not the treatment to which he’d just been subjected had really happened. He remained still to the point of being stiff as exasperation bubbled up his chest and into his throat. Attempting to prevent an outburst, he clenched his fists and tried counting down from ten slowly. His pupils remained cast toward the floor in an attempt to mitigate some of the rage that looking directly at the noble would cause.

 

“I can see why his highness likes you,” Minhyun continued, his hand drifted down Seongwoo’s waist, fingertips just brushing the small of his back before his palm took a handful of the concubine’s ass. An involuntary choking noise escaped Ong’s throat, but he remained statue still.

 

Minhyun chuckled softly. “So coy, you are. God, King Daniel is a lucky man to have such an adorable thing like you all to himself.” The duke leaned closer and Seongwoo could feel the noble’s breath tickle his ear. He shuddered, praying for his nightmare to end.

 

Duke Hwang seemed to relish in Seongwoo’s hesitance which further fueled the concubine’s nervousness. He leaned in even nearer, his lips nearly brushing Seongwoo’s earlobe. He whispered, “Of course, rumors say that the King has yet to make use of his little play thing.” Seongwoo frowned. Bubbling uneasiness in his stomach twisted and turned.

 

“As a concerned party, I’m inclined to wonder- how could our King ignore such an enticing man as yourself? Is he sick?” Ong’s mind lit up in realization. This man wasn’t just looking to cop a feel; he wanted information.

 

In his mind, Seongwoo knew attempting to engage in the line of questioning could have potentially fatal repercussions. One false move, one slip of the tongue, could cause him to lose the Duke’s favor and perhaps even more. He had yet to get a read on just how merciful a man Duke Hwang was, but he wasn’t eager to find out.

 

Regardless of his own objections, Seongwoo responded quietly, trying to ignore the long fingers tracing circles on his rear, “Is that what the court’s whispering about?” He tried to sound cool and collected, as if he had been there for years and not days.

 

Minhyun seemed tickled by the response, the edges of his lips curving up as he indulged the lowly whore, “And what concern is it of yours what court’s whispering about? All you lot do is sit there and look pretty, no? Please, take a seat with me…” Minhyun said, leading Seongwoo to a nearby bench that looked more expensive than a commoner’s life earnings. Seongwoo took a seat, grimacing slightly as Minhyun deliberately sat right next to him, resting a hand on his thigh.

 

“Now, tell me, concubine,” Minhyun said, taking another sip out of his goblet, “Why do you lend court gossip such concern?” He seemed more amused than anything else. He looked at Seongwoo much like an adult looked at a child they had decided to entertain.

 

Ong drew on his quick thinking and began weaving together what he figured would be a believable string of thoughts. Duke Hwang had been the first nobleman to truly converse with him. Knowing that his survival hinged on the goodwill to his superiors, Seongwoo decided he needed to tread carefully and be purposeful in the kind of character he chose to convey.

 

“Well, my lord, the truth is that I’m… Playing a game with myself.” Seongwoo started. Minhyun piqued an eyebrow in interest. Ong continued, “I bet I can match every concubine in this room with their master- even if I don’t know who they are. Knowing the nobles- and what they have to say- is key to linking them to their chosen… companion.” Minhyun seemed enthralled, letting out another hearty chuckle. His hand felt heavier than an anvil on Seongwoo’s knee and it burned twice as hot as far as Ong was concerned.

 

“What fun!” Minhyun exclaimed. “Then perhaps you will let me play a game of my own.” Seongwoo knew that the implied inquiry for permission was merely a courtesy. The Duke clearly did as he pleased; Ong had known him personally for mere minutes and he’d learned that quickly.

 

Seongwoo gave the Duke a strained smile, nodding, “It would be my pleasure.” He could feel the man’s long fingers once again stroking circles in his leg. He pleaded with God, hoping the other could not feel how it made him shudder; he feared it would serve to fuel the Duke’s desire further. “Tell me, what is your game, Duke?”

 

“It’s simple, really.” Minhyun said, “You want to know more about these nobles, yes?” Seongwoo nodded. “I shall tell you something about each noble, but you must answer a question of mine first.” Ong would have rolled his eyes given different circumstances. He’d figured a one-way stream of information - even trivial - was an optimistic wish, especially for a lowly concubine; however, it didn’t make him feel any better knowing he would have to continuously provide believable falsehoods on the spot.

 

Ong worked up a fake chuckle, “Then I suppose it is your turn to start.”

 

“Excellent. I shall start off with something easy, then. Can you read?” Minhyun asked.

 

“Yes.” Seongwoo said. The question seemed innocent enough, surprisingly so. He knew playing the role of the idiot could lend him advantages in other ways, but since he liked reading as a hobby the thought of maintaining such a deception in front of nobles seemed too effortful. “It is my turn to ask about a noble then, right?” Minhyun nodded.

 

Ong’s eyes scanned the richly dressed crowd searching for someone of interest. Dukes and counts danced among lords and ladies; other concubines milled about, some entertaining guests while others shared more covert interactions in dark corners. The court musicians and dancers carried on jovially as they strummed their instruments and sang their tune.

 

His eyes finally fell on the face of a noble who seemed the type to have a concubine, “Him,” Ong said, “Tell me something about him. Anything at all.”

 

“Lord Choi Minki. He’s a good friend of mine, actually. Hm… Something about him… He can… Play piano quite beautifully.” Minhyun grinned brightly. Seongwoo once again suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Such trivial information would realistically lend him absolutely no help toward matching the noble with his dear whore. Luckily, Seongwoo anticipated as much and had been quite observant already.

 

“I shall match him, then, just watch…” Seongwoo said.

 

Though he hadn’t known that the man, Lord Choi, could play piano, he had picked up some other qualities upon watching court. The man spoke animatedly with others, his gestures were cool while having a subtle feminine quality to them. Despite his almost doll-like look and demeanor, the man still stood tall, looking people straight on and regarding them genuinely. This told Seongwoo that the man felt quite adept and confident at court. He didn’t appear to have any more of an agenda than the average noble, and felt secure in his estate’s holdings and personal affairs. The man’s eyes also showed a tendency to linger on certain others to whom he spoke - people of certain stature, literally. He looked especially attentive toward young but mature looking men, throwing his head back in laughter and batting his eyelashes at those who fit the description. Seongwoo glanced around the room, looking for someone whose appearance fit the archetype. When he spotted a man sporting a rosy pink collar not too far from the noble, he pointed him out.

 

“That one,” He said to Minhyun. The man had a particularly well defined jaw and a strong brow which contrasted with his boyish smile.

 

Minhyun gasped in amazement, giving Seongwoo’s thigh a squeeze, “I- How did you do that? You matched JR and Lord Choi in just moments.” The noble turned to look at Seongwoo again. Something seemed to be stirring behind the man’s eyes, and Ong wasn’t sure whether or not it was suspicion or surprise. “You’re not cheating, are you?” The Duke asked.

 

Seongwoo shook his head, “I promise not. I merely observe, that’s all. People who are together for a long time tend to… Match in a way.” He immediately regretted those words because they seemed to please Duke Hwang immensely for some reason. Ong could feel the other man’s hand creep up his leg ever so slightly.

 

“You’re surprisingly sharp, Seongwoo...” Minhyun said. His gaze lingered on the concubine, studying him, for an uncomfortably long time.

 

“Well then, let’s continue!” At the drop of a hat the man’s demeanor bounced back to its former brightness. “How old are you?”

 

Ong suppressed a snort. He got the impression that the nobles heavily favored youth in their concubines; he had drawn such a conclusion by observing that most of his “peers” were no older than twenty years of age.

 

“Twenty-two.” Seongwoo said, hoping that the lack of a “teen” suffix would shake the Duke off a bit.

 

“Hm.” Was all Duke Hwang said in response. His lack of disappointment consequently disappointed Seongwoo himself.

 

The two went on with their strange “game” of information. Seongwoo managed to pair a few more nobles with their servants. Duke Minhyun asked Seongwoo a variety of questions ranging from casual to bordering on strange. Ong told the Duke that he preferred spring weather, that his talent was dancing, and that he preferred red wine to ale.

 

It struck Ong as strange that the Duke favored dedicating so much time to a mere concubine, but he tried his best to keep his growing anxieties at bay. Next to him, Duke Hwang seemed to buzz happily, rattling off factoids and even gossip about other nobles. Seongwoo could swear he had hardly seen the man sip his wine; yet the nobleman acted giddily inebriated.

 

After solving yet another pair with some liberal guesswork, Seongwoo prepared himself for another question. The Duke had been shuffling around impatiently, and Ong hoped it signified his soon to be departure. The concubine remained patient, preparing for yet another trivial inquiry and hoping for a dismissal. No doubt it was nearing the end of the night for most of the nobles present.

 

“Which do you prefer, girth or length?” A sly grin stretched across the Duke’s face. Seongwoo blinked at him in confusion for a moment before realization dawned on him.

 

“I- I-” He felt at a loss for words, searching his vocabulary for any court appropriate string of words to respond with. Embarrassment stung his cheeks as he felt the heavy eyes of the Duke drink in the sight of his mortification in enjoyment. He once again wondered if the Duke was being rude or if such conversation passed for healthy banter when dealing with a concubine.

 

Minhyun shook with laughter and his hand started tracing lines further and further up Seongwoo’s thigh. He took a gulp of his wine, putting his lips to Seongwoo’s ear once more,

 

“Perhaps I can give you an easier question,” The Duke’s words began to slur subtly. “How do you like to be privately, Seongwoo? Do you give or take? Now, to me you look like you’d look beautiful spread out on the sheets beneath someone-”

 

“S-sir-” Ong choked out.

 

“No- No, wait, I have a better question. How did the King break you in? Did he bend you over or sit you on top?” The Duke snorted, “Perhaps it was you who took charge, or… Maybe he didn’t do anything at all… Is he sick? Hurt? Or just insecure? Maybe he sat back as he does, preaching something about peace or kindness-” Minhyun’s head abruptly dropped onto Seongwoo’s shoulder. He could feel the noble’s breath on his neck hot and heavy; the man’s head and hand felt like molten lead on Seongwoo’s skin, the contact burned unpleasantly. He could swear that his throat had begun to constrict from within.

 

“Pity,” The Duke garbled, “Waste of your beauty. I wouldn’t dream of letting a pretty thing like you collect dust in a bedchamber-” His hand dipped between Seongwoo’s thighs, avariciously groping between his legs.

 

Seongwoo gasped as his last remaining nerve snapped at the degradation. Red blurred his vision and he lashed out at the Duke, hitting him square in the face with his fist.

 

Court gaiety instantaneously halted, and suddenly all eyes in the room were trained on them. Even the musicians had stopped playing their instruments. Everyone looked on as the Duke reeled from shock, blood running down his nose, and Seongwoo stood with wide eyes. Though he felt immense satisfaction for a second, the sensation soon got drowned by regret. Whispers rumbled among those present until finally someone broke the silence.

 

“M-My lord!” A broad shouldered man bearing a hooped leather collar much like Ong’s strode toward Minhyun, kneeling by his side.

 

“Duke Hwang!” Another voice quickly followed, this one with a soft tone, familiar. Seongwoo’s eyes followed the direction of the voice, faced with his own Master. The King turned to the court musicians, urging them to keep playing as he approached the scene. The Duke’s own ward had given him a handkerchief to sop up the blood from his nose.

 

“I apologize deeply, Duke Hwang,” Daniel said, his voice remained steady, but his pupils darted around the room nervously. “My concubine has yet to accustom himself to being at court.”

 

Minhyun appeared more dazed than anything, but he responded with a bitter laugh. “Unaccustomed? How dare you try to excuse such- such assault! This one’s been a menace since he stepped into court. Don’t tell me the King of a nation can’t even control his own damn _whore-_ ”

 

“That is enough.” Daniel cut him off, a deep frown setting on his face. “Duke you have clearly consumed a bit irresponsibly tonight. I suggest you have your ward escort you to your quarters before this escalates any further.”

 

Minhyun scoffed, “How _dare_ you regard this with such contempt. It is not I that should be punished here-”

 

“Let me clarify my statement,” Daniel said. He stood up straighter, speaking firmly, “I am your King and you _will_ do as I say. Not only have you violated my property, but you have also dared insult me in my own court. Return to your quarters. _Now_. Lest I have the guards escort you back.”

 

The Duke stood up in a huff and glowered at his royal highness. Putting on a visage of cool serenity, Minhyun walked off, his concubine in tow, and a wave of whispers followed in their wake.

 

Daniel’s eyes flitted about. No matter where he looked, they met the gazes of scrutinizing courtiers. He could see the wheels in their minds turning, forming scathing opinions no doubt. Frowning, the King grabbed Seongwoo’s lead and gave it a pull.

 

“You, with me. _Now_.” The King said. The concubine looked cross, but with another yank, he obliged the King’s command to follow. Without a word the two left court, and another set of whispers erupted among the nobles. Seongwoo scowled as he heard some of them in passing.

 

“He can’t even control a concubine, pathetic.” “Oh, he’s in trouble now.” “Did you see the Duke strut off? Absolutely hilarious-” “I wonder if the King will break him…” “He ought to die for such an offense, the King is letting him off easy…” “About time the King put it in its place.”

 

Disgust boiled up inside of the concubine, but he stamped it down, keeping his eyes cast to the floor as he got dragged away.


	11. Open Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 11 WARNING(s): violence, sexually explicit content

When the two reached the King’s bedchambers, the door slammed behind them loudly. The typically genial King hadn’t said a word during the duration of their walk and remained silent. Seongwoo, confused, could only follow the man as he lead him into the room. With a rough shove, Seongwoo was pushed onto the bed. Before he could collect his thoughts, he heard the familiar clinking of metal and looked to the headboard. 

 

He’d been bound to the bed once more. 

 

His hands immediately shot to the metal fixture on the headboard. Even if it meant further enraging his Master he needed to be untethered. Squinting at the metalwork, Seongwoo realized what affixed the lead to the headboard wasn’t a simple buckle like he’d expected. A barrel shaped padlock appeared to have been built into the headboard itself, something he hadn’t noticed before. He gasped in aggravation.

 

“You can try all you want.” The King said matter of factly, standing beside his bed. “I’d be quite impressed if you could get out of that with your bare hands.”

 

Seongwoo’s ears were filled with his own quick, rhythmic heart beats. He had no idea what he ought to be thinking or feeling. Indignation at the nature of his captivity? Fear for his physical well being? He froze up, unable to process or predict what would happen in the coming moments.

 

The King glared at Seongwoo, sitting on the edge of his bed, and an uncomfortable silence fell between the two. For what felt like eons, the King merely looked at Seongwoo, dissecting him with his gaze. Ong couldn’t tell what thoughts were running through the noble’s head which unsettled him greatly. He supposed that his good fortune with the King had run out; perhaps all of the terrible things he’d envisioned were soon to come true. 

 

Finally, the royal spoke, “You will apologize to Duke Hwang.” He said flatly.

 

“I will do no such thing,” Ong blurted out before he could think. He quickly snapped his mouth shut. Typically, he prided himself on keeping a cool facade in any situation, but the tension of the past few days had diminished his typical prudence.

 

“That was not a request or a suggestion. It was an order.” The King replied. Ong wanted to scream at the man, yell about how he had to tolerate being felt up like some kind of a whore; however, upon reflection, Seongwoo realized how absolutely trivial it would have sounded. Under the roof of Jeon Castle, he  _ was  _ a whore. That was fact, that was law.

 

“As for further punishment...” The King sat upright on his knees at the edge of the bed, “Get on all fours.” He commanded sternly.

 

Seongwoo’s heart dropped. He thought if his heart could submerge beneath the surface of the dirty ground into the depths of hell, it would have. His mind strained in search of some kind of way out. He considered the freedom of his limbs, but decided the setback of his lead and being unable to free himself would make assault unfavorable. Any move he made would have to wait until he was freed; otherwise, his short distance would cause him more harm and retaliatory punishment, surely.

 

The concubine dropped onto his hands and knees, facing the King. Though sorrow welled up in his chest, he was determined not to show weakness, regardless of his dwindling resolve. His royal highness threaded his fingers in the concubine’s hair before taking a firm grip. A few seconds of deductive reasoning told Seongwoo what his Master had in store for him. Even though he shook with dread, the concubine couldn’t stand the thought of doing nothing. He did the only thing he thought to, the thing he’d done when he had first met esteemed King Daniel.

 

Seongwoo looked up, meeting the King’s eyes with the fiercest glare he could muster. He decided if he was to be debauched, brutalized even, the King would know what Seongwoo would do to him given the opportunity.

 

King Daniel returned Seongwoo’s gaze with a peculiarly inquisitive look in his eyes. He looked, above all else, strangely fascinated. The hand in the concubine’s hair slid downwards; the noble’s fingers fluttered down Seongwoo’s cheek and jaw, tracing shapes idly in his cheek. Tickling sensations made the bound man tremble, and quickly the uncertainty, the shock from the tenderness, and anxiety became too much for Seongwoo to bear.

 

“Again, you hesitate.” Seongwoo said bitterly. His first meeting with the King had come to mind; the odd occurrence of him being sent away despite the blatant push for him to be “broken in”. “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me his royal highness can’t get it up-” 

 

The King swiftly gripped the concubine’s neck callously. Any trace of tenderness had completely vaporized in an instant. The pressure around his neck allowed Seongwoo to breathe just barely; moreso, it served as a stark reminder of who exactly controlled the situation. The concubine’s heart stopped. Once again he found his own words immensely regrettable.

 

“Is this what you want?!” Daniel yelled, his voice ringing in the silent room; his eyes look darker than Seongwoo had ever seen before. The concubine’s eyes widened, his chest heaving, straining to get enough air. His blood chilled.

 

The King continued speaking, “If you want a brute, I will be a brute.” His voice had become quieter. “If it truly comforts you I can take you whenever and however I want,  _ violently _ . Would you prefer being beaten? Or maybe I should give you lashes with a leather cord. If you like, I could even force-feed you something that will make your sexual appetite insatiable. Is that what gets you off? Violence? Please, tell me! After all, I am a King of my people.” 

 

Bizarre as it seemed, Seongwoo could swear he detected a hint of pain in the other’s eyes as opposed to fury. His words and tone communicated rage, yet his soul appeared unable to fully commit to it. Daniel released his grasp on the other’s throat, and Seongwoo coughed, shuddering as he attempted to fill his lungs with air once more. 

 

His highness spoke again, “I hesitate because- because I am human. I have a conscience. Am I to understand that such a thing bothers you-”

 

“A conscience!?” Seongwoo snarled, his voice still hoarse, “Is that the same conscience that commanded armies to invade and attack innocent people?”

 

“War is different.” Daniel replied, eyes flitting away from the concubine’s fierce gaze.

 

“What a convenient way to wash the blood off your hands.”

 

Daniel opened his mouth to say something, but shut it. A vein popped out on his neck, evidence to underlying indignation boiling within. 

 

“There are many things you do not understand.” He said through gritted teeth.

 

“I understand much more than you think. I understand that a greedy young King will eliminate anything that stands in his path to power. He would even stoop so low as to murder his beloved cousin, Queen Som-”

  
“ _ Smack _ !” “ _ Thud _ !”

 

A thunderous clapping noise followed by a resonating thud echoed in the King’s quarters. 

 

The searing pain in Seongwoo’s head completely dazed him, rendering him unable to do more than gasp and sputter as he tried catching his breath. Tears rolled down his face as he processed the searing sensation needling his face. After a few seconds, he noticed the warmth trickling down his temple.  Shifting spots of light hazed his vision made the everything more difficult to process. 

 

Everything in the concubine’s vision twirled as he turned his head to look around; he blinked in hopes that it would bring the world into focus. He could just vaguely make out dark red dripping between the carefully carved crevices of his Master’s headboard. Dull aches began pulsing from his temple, the point of impact. His cheek on the opposite side burned, and slowly he pieced together what had happened. The King had slapped him with so much force that his head collided with the hard, blunt headboard.

 

The King stumbled backward off the bed and stood above him, shaking with outrage. He looked at Seongwoo with eyes the concubine had never seen before.  The emotion could only be described as devastation; at what, Seongwoo did not know.

 

Daniel spoke, his breath wavering as he attempted to remain composed,“Know your place, whore.” He said. The man’s voice sounded muffled to Seongwoo, diffused by a loud buzz in his ears. “I can tolerate insults and bad behavior, but I refuse to hear an outsider spew such- such  _ ignorance _ . Now apologize.” King Daniel punctuated the demand by seizing the concubine’s jaw and forcing him to look directly into his King’s eyes.

 

Seongwoo, still reeling from the pain, grimaced; his heart raced, overwhelmed by nerves and confusion.

 

“Apologize,” Daniel said again, squeezing Seongwoo’s face more tightly.

 

The concubine winced. “I’m sorry.” He said weakly.

 

“Is that how you address me?” Daniel’s voice bellowed, bouncing off of the high ceilings of the room.

 

“I-I’m sorry, your highne-”

 

“ _ Master _ . You address me as Master.” The King’s grip grew stronger.

 

Seongwoo clenched his teeth, unable to stop the fresh tears running down his stinging cheeks. “I’m sorry...  _ Master _ .” He cried. His breath caught in his throat as the King finally released his grip. 

 

Metal clinked as Daniel unchained the concubine from his bed. He yanked on the lead, nearly choking the bound man. Seongwoo scrambled to get on his feet, and he followed the King as the man dragged him toward his room. The concubine struggled to remain upright, and his heart sunk, fearful of what the man planned on doing to him.

 

“Good night.” King Daniel roughly shoved his concubine through the open door. 

 

Seongwoo didn’t believe that the man would shove him away in such a manner. He turned around in anticipation of some sort of further punishment, some contemptible surprise. Instead, all he saw was King Daniel wearing a stern expression. The last thing Seongwoo noticed was his Master’s eyes, and for a moment the concubine was certain he saw tears in them. He could hardly reflect on whether or not the tears were real or a hallucination; because the hidden door quickly shut behind him with a booming slam. The loud bang of the door reverberated from the doorframe to the walls of the concubine’s room, ringing in his ear even after the fact. 

 

Alone, Seongwoo dropped to his knees, his heart still rattling around in his chest after the violent encounter with his Master. He sniffled, wiping the tears that were drying on his face; his head throbbed. Despite the intense desire to forget what had just happened, Ong’s mind kept replaying the altercation in his mind.

 

Typically, such an explicit expression of raw emotion would be rather telling to Seongwoo. He could likely get many impressions of a person’s character from such an outburst; with the King, it only served to confound him further. King Daniel appeared to be mild, to say the least. So far the man radiated agreeableness and professionalism. His mentors had clearly trained him well in the ways of court manners. While good demeanor was to be expected of royalty in court, even behind closed doors the man’s temperament could be described as easygoing. He didn’t seem the type to lash out violently even with provocation.

 

Seongwoo wondered: what had  _ really _ happened to Queen Somi? Had King Daniel reacted so strongly because Seongwoo said something close to the truth? Or, did the exclamation genuinely upset the man due to its falsehood? Perhaps Kang Daniel possessed a darker side lurking beneath a kind, regal facade. Seongwoo went over every detail of knowledge he’d procured on the King since arriving in an attempt to formulate a sound conclusion.

 

Unfortunately, he found himself unable to make sense of it all.

 

Upon looking down, he realized that the King hadn’t even removed his lead. The concubine groaned as he mustered the motivation to physically get up. He could hear the metal hoop at the end of his lead drag on the floor as he lumbered across the cold floor. Resigned, he collapsed onto his bed and considered how he would tend to his wounded temple.

 

After what felt like hours of slow, clumsy rifling through drawers and wardrobes, Seongwoo found a handkerchief that seemed adequate. Knotting it around his forehead, the concubine trudged over to his bed. Too much had happened in that single day for Ong to properly reflect on it. Even that morning felt like it had happened weeks ago.

 

Seongwoo shut his eyes, willing himself to sleep. Occasionally he would hear sounds through the wall that connected him to the King, and he would jolt awake with panic, terrified his Master would come for him.

 

He never did, and eventually the world around the concubine faded until it had been completely obscured by the thick veil of sleep.

 

* * *

 

_ “Knock. Knock.” _

 

A light rapping sound came from the King’s bedroom door. Daniel ignored it. He remained still when he heard the squeaking of the hinges, opening the entrance. The door closed quietly behind the person entering, and hurried footsteps approached the bed.

 

“Your highness?” A familiar, soft voice said. The King did not respond.

 

General Park Jihoon heaved a sigh, frowning deeply at the sight which greeted him. Hunched over with his head in his hands sat King Daniel. Jihoon felt his heart drop, and he nearly dropped the cups and pitcher of wine he’d brought. He had seen the King in this state many times before, most of those times being when he’d been recently coronated. He’d figured the King would be a bit vexed due to his concubine’s misbehavior, but the mess before him seemed unprecedented. Jihoon had been hoping to enjoy one of their late night “appointments” since it’d been so long since they’d had one; however, the King seemed to be in no mood. Picking his fallen heart off of the floor, Jihoon mustered his nerves and approached the King, determined to lift his spirits.

 

“Your highness? Hello?” Jihoon said, careful not to spill wine as he hopped up onto the bed. “Your highness, it would be ever so rude of you to make me drink this wine all by myself.” He pouted. Daniel sniffed loudly, wiping his eyes before finally looking up at the General.

 

“I-I’m sorry,” He said weakly. Jihoon felt his chest ache seeing the King so torn up. He handed the older man a wine glass, pouring a generous amount in when he took it.

 

“Drink.” Jihoon said. “Drink and tell me what happened.” Daniel did just that, downing the liquid in nearly one gulp. His face scrunched at the bitterness of the snow colored rice wine, but he finally seemed willing to speak.

 

Breath wavering, the King blinked back tears, weakly saying, “I hurt him.” He thumbed at the empty wine glass in his hands, visibly willing the fresh tears in his eyes not to fall.

 

“I- You… You wh-”

 

“I hurt him!” Daniel said again, his voice heavier this time.

 

“Wh… What are you talking about? Your highness, I can’t help you if I don’t-”

 

The King lost control once more, and his hands shot to cover his face. Body shaking, he attempted to talk between sobs. “I hurt him, Jihoon. I hurt him-” He blubbered.

 

“Your highness- Daniel- Please, you’re worrying me,” Jihoon grew frantic, placing his wine glass on a nearby table so he could console his King.

 

“I didn’t want to do that, Jihoon… I didn’t want to hurt him-” Daniel sobbed, heaving, “-B-but I did, I lost control. I hurt him!”

 

The General grabbed the King by the shoulders, forcing him to look directly in his eyes. “You need to tell me who it is you hurt, your highness. If you’re in trouble, we can fix this-  _ I _ can fix this. Is this about Duke Hwang? I just need you to tell me, who-”

 

“Seongwoo. I hurt Seongwoo.” Daniel cried hysterically.

 

Jihoon felt the entire world stop moving for a moment. He blinked as reality materialized around him, sighing in immense relief. The King hadn’t hurt some important official or noble or princess. He’d just hurt a concubine. The General suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at the King’s dramatics given the situation. Few things moved the King to tears, but a few drops of alcohol and the prospect of not being a saint appeared to do the trick.

 

Looping his arms around the King and hugging him tightly, Jihoon tried not to laugh as he comforted the King, “It’s okay, it’s okay…”

 

“No, it’s not okay. I- I just got so angry, and-” Daniel sniffled, “I hurt him.”

 

“His behavior warranted some kind of punishment.”

 

“No, it wasn’t that, it wasn’t his outburst. It was… He brought up my cousin, and I...” At the very least the King seemed to be coming down from his fit of mania.

 

“If he insists on stepping out of line when speaking to you, he absolutely deserves whatever you inflicted upon him. You are the King, it is your divine right.” Jihoon replied coldly. In times like these he felt grateful for his own, obedient concubine.

 

“He does not deserve to be… To be beaten. I- I don’t want to hurt people.”

 

“Spare me! It’s not as if boys and men don’t get into fights every once in awhile. It is how we communicate-”

 

“It is not a fight when one person is tied up.”

 

The General pursed his lips,“He deserves whatever you think he deserves at the time. He is a concubine!”

 

“He is a human!” Daniel retorted.

 

Jihoon wanted to scream at the man, he wanted to shout at him so badly; yet he could never bring himself to raise his voice at Daniel. The King’s stubbornness proved exasperating sometimes, but the root of his highness’s intentions brought Jihoon down from his vexation. His highness’s adorable face also helped his case.

 

The General sighed in defeat, squeezing the King’s shoulder. “Your highness… You are… You are so  _ good _ .” Was all he could say. Though the statement sounded simple, Jihoon could think of no better way to adequately describe Kang Daniel. “You know what this reminds me of?”

 

“What?” Daniel replied, much calmer than before.

 

“Remember when we were children, and we would run ‘round the gardens playing?”

 

The King nodded, “Of course. Such fun, simple times.”

 

“You were older, so you’d always get to choose what role you played when we played make believe. Of course, you always choose-”

 

“-The hero, I know.” A tiny, sheepish grin played at the edges of his lips as he sniffled.

 

“Yes, you always got to be the hero, and I’d have to be whatever villain you thought fun at the time. I think I liked being a dragon the most.” Jihoon chuckled. 

 

“You were a remarkably diabolical fiend!” Daniel said, sitting up a bit. “I do recall you taking my cats - tiny kittens at the time - hostage.”

 

The General laughed, “Perhaps I’ve always been a bit of a tactician then.”

 

“Well, I’m glad to have you on my side now. That’s for certain.”

 

Jihoon smiled, pink tinting his ears ever so slightly. He continued, “I just- I remember one time we were playing on the lawn, running every which way, and you stepped on a frog.”

 

“Oh, god, why would you remind me of that? I was traumatized!” Daniel’s face scrunched in embarrassment.

 

“You were inconsolable for hours! You cried and cried and cried!”

 

“Wh- I- I didn’t cry  _ that  _ much.”

 

“You pulled gardeners from their work, demanding we give the creature a proper burial. I even picked flowers for the occasion.” Daniel crossed his arms, willing himself not to smile at the shameful account.

 

“All of this,” Jihoon continued, “For a  _ frog _ .”

 

“If you are trying to shame me into feeling better…” Daniel pouted before breaking out into laughter, “It’s working.”

 

“I am not trying to shame you, I am merely informing you that… You are truly too good. Just, remember even the best of us make mistakes. Apologize and I’m sure the concubine will get over the conflict. Give him jewels or something of the sort. You cannot undo the action, just… Focus on moving forward.” The General shrugged. Daniel nodded, reluctantly accepting the General’s advice. Jihoon pulled him into another hug, happy to see the older man in a much better state. 

 

Daniel’s compassion never ceased to amaze him; seeing how the King cared for others made Jihoon feel hopeful. Even if only for a brief few hours, Jihoon felt like being around Daniel gave him back some of the humanity he’d lost to his military tours. The General knew he was far from an angel, that some of his methods strayed far from God’s light, but he’d made peace with it long ago. He decided it was well worth being dragged down to hell if it meant his King could sit atop his heavenly throne.

 

The General decided it was time for more wine, grabbing the carafe off the nearby table and refilling their glasses. He took his place next to the King once more and handed him his refreshed glass, “I am truly sorry to have brought you such troubles. I merely wanted to show how much I appreciate you with my gift, but I’m afraid I’ve only added to your griefs…”

  
Daniel shook his head, “Jihoon, you are well-intentioned. I make no mistake of that.”

 

That didn’t stop the General from pouting, “The more I dwell on it, the more I regret it. I knew he had had bad behavior. Really, it was quite stupid of me to give you such a rough-”

 

“Hush,” Daniel cut him off, “I’ll hear no more of this. Your gift was thoughtful and- and _stunningly_ _beautiful_.” Jihoon winced for an instant upon hearing those words. The King went on, “You have no need to apologize. You’ve always been so thoughtful and considerate to me.” The General returned the statement with a genuine smile. Hearing the affirmations from Daniel made his whole being glow with a joyful aura. 

 

“You know you’re always saved in my heart, your highness.” Jihoon said, forming two L shapes with this hands to frame the King’s face.

 

“You’re so embarrassing!” The King snorted, his eyes half moons as he chuckled at the General’s quirks. 

 

“Look- It’s not my fault! You say something silly once and all of the Kingdom’s nobility latches onto it- you’re branded with it forever! This is who I am now.”

 

Daniel’s laughter died down, “And I am glad to have you back. There’s never a dull day in court when you’re here.”

 

“Yes, well, with that firecracker of a concubine you’ve got, things do seem to be quite colorful indeed. I have to wonder what it was like to break him in…”

 

“The face of innocence coupled with the mind of the devil… You’re naughty as always, Park Jihoon.”

 

The General smirked, “We’ve shared nearly everything since our days of taking hostages and stepping on frogs. Don’t tell me you’re feeling shame  _ now _ . I assure you it’s much too late, I know everything.”

 

“I- I haven’t... Made the time to break him in quite yet,” Daniel replied, his ears turning red. The General raised his eyebrows, an animated expression of wonder on his face.

 

“You intend to keep it, correct?” Jihoon inquired, “I mean, despite your conflicts, you do like it-”

 

“Yes, as I said before, he is breathtaking, Jihoon. I suppose I need to, um, iron out his behavior before taking that step. I shall add that to my growing list of duties.” The King sighed, gazing at his cup of wine as if it would yield the answers to his life’s problems.

 

“Please, forgive me, your highness. I haven’t lent consideration to how busy you are- especially nowadays with recent trade dilemmas and-”

 

“Please, Jihoon, leave that talk to the war room,” Daniel groaned, “All of it. And you don’t have to call me ‘your highness’, not in here at least.”

 

“But you  _ are _ the King. It’s been nearly a year yet you still act like you struggle to believe it.”

 

The royal rolled his eyes, exhaling loudly. He knew his childhood friend had had his best interests in mind, but the last thing he wanted to hear was another lecture about how he ought to “act like more like a King”. He frowned, his mind drifting to thoughts of the past, when he was a careless child whose only duties were to behave in court and study. He thought about former rulers, about his passed on cousin, Jeon Somi.

 

“Daniel,” Jihoon bit his lip, looking at Daniel concernedly, “I’m sorry, I had no intention of commenting on your ruling capabilities-”

 

“Of course you weren’t, Jihoon.  I apologize, I’m merely being sensitive. One of the many bruises on my ‘ruling capabilities’,” Daniel punctuated the statement with a hefty swig of his rice wine, his expression wrinkling as the drink burned down his throat.

 

Jihoon grabbed the King’s emptied cup and set it aside with his own on a bedside table. “I have had  _ enough _ of your self deprecations for one night, friend.” He joined Daniel on the bed once more, scooching closer.

 

The general’s gaze took a languorous trip up and down the King’s hunched form. He sat on the edge of his bed, broad shoulders exposed due to the wide neck of his linen sleeping shirt. Warm candlelight drew shadows across the King’s skin, dipping between honed pectorals and the lines of his collarbone. Moving down the torso, Jihoon studied the inward curve of his highness’s waist, the way his breeches billowed around his finely muscled legs.

 

“Here,” Jihoon broke the spell of silence that had fallen between them. He shuffled atop the bed, taking a position behind the King, “Let me help you forget about everything.” Placing his hands on the King’s broad shoulders, he used his thumbs to rub circles in the tense muscles. Daniel stiffened for a moment at the touch, and Jihoon wondered if he had taken things too far; however, the King quickly slackened, sighing in relief at the touch.

 

“Jihoon,” Daniel said, bowing his head down to give his friend more access,”You are… So kind to me.” Jihoon’s grin spanned his entire face at the kind words. He continued kneading the man’s muscles, savoring the King’s gradual relaxation. Licking his lips, the General slowly moved his face closer to his highness’s neck. He swallowed hard and let his lips just slightly brush the King’s jawline. 

 

Daniel’s head jerked away. Jihoon could feel his heart dropping to his feet, splintering, but he followed the King’s wishes as he always did. Among their unspoken rules, one was, “not the face”. The General opted instead to nuzzle the King’s earlobe, pressing a gentle kiss on the tender skin. His reservations started to dissolve upon hearing the King’s gasp.

 

Jihoon’s lips gently trailed downwards, from his higness’s earlobe to where his neck and shoulders met. His hands slowly ran down the King’s back, and his fingers gleefully explored the nooks and crannies between muscles and bone. 

 

“You don’t have to do this,” Daniel murmured, “I have a concubine for this now. Remember, the one  _ you  _ gave me?”

 

“You mean the concubine who has caused you massive grief within just days of arriving? I’m not sure how much comfort he will be lending you in the near future.” Jihoon chuckled softly. “Anyways, I know I don’t have to do this….” He planted another soft kiss on Daniel’s shoulder, “I want to. It’s been awhile since we’ve had fun like this, you and I.” The King seemed to have no further objections, accepting the answers, the explanation of “fun”. To affirm Jihoon, Daniel craned his neck, exposing more of his flesh to his confidant.

 

The small gesture invited Jihoon’s desires to take the forefront. He felt light from elation, but made sure not to act too enthusiastic as he continued. He wrapped his arms around the King, feeling for fastenings. One by one, Jihoon delicately pulled the strings of the bows that kept his highness’s shirt on his body. The thin fabric sunk downwards ever so slightly with each knot the General untied. When only the King’s broad shoulders were keeping the shirt up, Jihoon grabbed the edges of the fabric. He watched with lustful reverence as his highness shrugged the shirt off, revealing the muscles on his shoulders and back, the dip of his spine. 

 

General Park Jihoon had always considered himself capable and stable. Behind his charming veneer, he harbored a confidence and strength that empowered him to be the fierce leader he was. Jihoon felt a small twinge of shame at how all of those qualities were compromised when he got close to Daniel. The mere sight of the man’s unclothed back made his gut clench.

 

Jihoon dove down, trailing kisses across the King’s broad shoulders; once again, his hands wandered, and he greedily took in the sensation of Daniel’s hot flesh beneath his fingertips. Jihoon decided to shuck his own shirt out of impatience. The simple garment drifted to the floor beside them as the General wrapped his arms around the King once more.

 

Even more thrilling than just fingertips was the feeling of flesh on flesh; Jihoon relished in the warmth radiating off of the King’s bare skin into his. He gripped and groped at his highness more liberally than before, hands squeezing toned pectorals and thick thighs. Jihoon wished he could replay Daniel’s gasps in his head over and over again. Unfortunately, he couldn’t. Instead, he tried his best to save them in his heart, memorizing each and every one, imprinting them deeply into his brain.

 

King Daniel trusted Jihoon, that much was apparent by the ease with which he yielded to the other. That was one thing that had surprised Jihoon at first, when they had started seeing each other for late night “meetings”. When dealing with legitimate intimacy, Daniel had always been a bit awkward; yet, despite this, he had trusted Jihoon and opened a completely different side of himself up to his longtime friend.

 

That thought, the notion that the King had trusted him above all others, intoxicated Jihoon more than any drug ever could. His hard on brushed against the small of Daniel’s back, and he was certain the older one could feel it. Daniel gently guided Jihoon’s hand up his inner thigh, wordlessly telling him that he reciprocated the sentiment.

 

Placing sloppy kisses down the back of Daniel’s neck and shoulders, Jihoon gently pulled at the knot keeping his highness’s breaches in place; the fabric fell, and Jihoon took pause from his ministrations to admire the man to whom he clung. Daniel leaned back into his childhood friend with his eyes closed and his lips parted ever so slightly. The light of the fireplace highlighted the peaks and valleys of his musculature. Jihoon’s eyes travelled further down, tracing his abdominals before taking in the sight of his beautiful cock. Heat in his stomach swelled as he drank it in. The King’s thick erection stood at attention, and a tiny drop of precome dripped from the pink tip. With no hesitation, Jihoon gripped the man’s hard on, stroking as his lips returned to the other’s neck. 

 

Daniel gasped, and his breath hitched. His entire body responded, his legs spreading to give Jihoon access as his hips tipped up ever so slightly to meet the man’s hand. Jihoon loved how pliant the man could be. 

 

“Lay down,” Jihoon whispered, softly kissing the King’s earlobe. As he’d anticipated, Daniel obliged without a word. The King rested his head atop his luxurious pillows and sprawled out comfortably. Not keen to idle too long, the General straddled his highness; once again he tugged at the King’s cock while his lips busied themselves kissing and sucking anything they could reach: shoulders, collarbones, pecs.

 

Jihoon’s tongue darted across a nipple, eliciting a gratifying moan from the King. More soon came to follow as the General sucked on supple skin as his hand continued stroking the other’s cock. It grew more and more challenging for Jihoon to ignore the gnawing pressure boiling in his gut. As much fun as he’d had kissing Daniel, Jihoon was eager to please his King even more. The General’s pink lips laid a trail of kisses from the King’s abdomen to his pelvis. After placing a few more kisses at the base of Daniel’s cock, Jihoon lowered his mouth onto the other’s throbbing member.

 

Daniel inhaled sharply through his teeth and his breath hitched at the sudden warmth enveloping his cock. Jihoon felt beside himself when the other quickly threaded his fingers through his hair. Pinpricks of pleasure ran through Jihoon’s body as he sucked the other’s cock. Even though he hadn’t even touched himself, knowing that he could have such an effect on the King aroused him substantially. 

 

The younger man’s breeches began to feel incredibly uncomfortable, constricting, and wet with his own precome. Unable to help himself, Jihoon reached down to merely palm himself. The sensation of pressure felt so sweet that it made him shudder. Part of him felt so pathetic being that worked up over Daniel, but he had long ago accepted it as fact.

 

“Turn around,” Daniel said, his husky voice breaking the younger man out of his daze. 

 

Jihoon raised an eyebrow in confusion. His pulse raced as he obliged his King. Jihoon moved so he straddled Daniel with his back facing the other. A hand pressing on the general’s back urged him onto his hands and knees. Still slightly puzzled, Jihoon happily let Daniel take the lead. His highness grabbed Jihoon’s hips, pulling them close. Heat flared in the General’s stomach and chest as he felt the King’s lips graze the back of his thighs, trailing kisses inward. A hand drifted to Jihoon’s head, guiding it back down onto the King’s dripping cock.

 

Though initially uncertain, Jihoon rapidly realized what Daniel had in mind. He let out an involuntary whine as the other’s plush lips closed around his cock. His toes curled and he reflexively squeezed his eyes shut as the other began lapping up the precome that had made him so uncomfortable just moments ago. 

 

Squelching noises and hitched breaths echoed above the cracks of the fireplace in the large room. Jihoon tried his best to open his throat up more and more, taking his highness incrementally deeper each time his head dipped down. His tongue traced the veins that spanned the length of the other’s thick cock, and he could feel the man shiver beneath him in response. 

 

Daniel seemed less adept than Jihoon, but his valiant effort was more than enough to quickly unravel Jihoon. The General trembled with ecstasy knowing that his highness, the highest ruler and sovereign of the Kang Empire, labored to pleasure him. The King had put upon himself the more troublesome angle for pleasuring his partner; he used the other’s hips as a handhold as he sucked him off. Though his technique was far from masterful, the fact that Daniel would think to do such a thing only further cemented how precious he was in Jihoon’s mind.

 

Maintaining composure proved incredibly difficult in this position for the General. Heat lapped up in his abdomen as his own cock was wrapped in wet warmth. His head bobbed up and down on the King’s cock, meeting the older one’s hips as they jerked up. All the while, Daniel gripped Jihoon’s ass firmly, craning his neck to take him as much as possible.

 

The General moaned as the King’s hot tongue drew circles on the tip of his cock. He lowered his hips gingerly to let Daniel take as much of him as possible. Even the most minute of sensations did not go unnoticed by Jihoon; his highness’s cheeks hollowed, clinging to the General’s cock. His labored breaths tickled his groin, and the way his throat constricted and sputtered when he’d taken just a bit too much pushed Jihoon dangerously close to the edge.

 

Daniel throbbed inside Jihoon’s mouth, his hips started jerking erratically, one of his tells of being close. The King’s grasp on Jihoon’s hips tightened, and despite his lack of aptitude, Daniel took all of Jihoon’s cock in one swift motion. 

 

“M-Mn-!” Jihoon let out a whimper as he willed himself to take the King deeper. His hips shuddered; he sensed that he was due to collapse at any second. The pressure mounting inside of him aggressively flared up, demanding release, but Jihoon willed himself not to succumb. Not yet. Jihoon wasn’t sure who was more of a mess; they were both covered in precome and sweat and saliva. They both gagged and groaned and blinked tears out of their eyes as they tried to savor the experience.

 

Suddenly, Daniel paused. His hips lurched and his breath heaved. Hot liquid filled Jihoon’s mouth and shot into his throat. The younger man did his best to swallow as much as he could. Instead, due to his angle, the majority of his mouth’s contents dribbled down his chin onto the King’s cock and the sheets below. It hardly mattered; the pressure Jihoon had so effortfully kept at bay finally reached a boiling point. 

 

The General came with a loud moan, relishing in every lasting sensation. White light dotted his vision as everything poured out of him until he felt exhausted. He shook violently, trying his best not to drop onto the King.

 

Daniel gasped as Jihoon rolled off of him. His head sunk into his pillows as he steadied his breathing. The General joined him; he slowly relaxed onto the bed beneath him, taking time to catch his own breath. Even with hair sticking to his forehead and drool dripping out from the side of his mouth, the King looked gorgeous to the younger man. The two laid still next to one another for a couple of minutes, nothing but the sound of the fireplace and their slowing breath to fill the space between them.

 

“Thank you, Jihoon,” The King said breathily to the equally winded General. 

 

Countless fantastic scenarios ran through Jihoon’s head post-coitus, but not one involved a “thank you”. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest, repeating the mantra that kept his head above water: great things come to those who wait. 

 

Park Jihoon prided himself on tactics, knowing when to engage in reconnaissance and when to strike. He applied his knowledge to multiple aspects of life and assumed true romance would not prove far from the art of war.

 

“Any time, old friend,” Jihoon replied, mustering a small grin for his highness. He unconsciously leaned in to kiss the man, withdrawing quickly before the King could notice. Instead, he grabbed the nearest cloth (it happened to be his highness’s sleeping shirt) and tossed it in Daniel’s general direction.

 

“You’re disgusting,” He snarked, trying to ignore the hollow pit settling in his stomach. Without question, Daniel grabbed the shirt and roughly wiped his face before tossing it to Jihoon with a quiet chuckle.

 

“You’re disgusting...er.”

 

“Incredible, your highness. Did you hear that one in court?” Jihoon wrung the soiled shirt down his face.

 

“Shut up… And stop calling me your highness.” Daniel said groggily.

 

The General knew the song they danced to well enough; he knew the King was not long for the world and would soon fall into a deep, peaceful sleep. He always preferred to wait for Daniel to fall asleep. The one time he’d woken up next to the man, he remembered being dismissed hurriedly by the bashful noble who wasn’t King at the time. 

 

Since then the two had taken up an unspoken routine for such occasions. Jihoon arrived late, when only a few servants would see him. The General made sure the servants who saw him were aware of the fate they’d befall should they betray their rendezvous. The two would talk, share drink and perhaps food, and fall into one another. In the old days, Jihoon had taken to leaning on Daniel’s shoulder, crying about his tough days in the academy or on the battlefield. In more recent years Daniel had been the one in need of comfort, and Jihoon happily provided.

 

Regardless of how their exchange of “comfort” went, it would end with Jihoon leaving to his own bed and Daniel snoring the night away. The two would see each other in court the next day, moving forward with life, living on as confidants and friends.

 

That is the way things had always been.

 

While the General dreamed of things one day evolving into something deeper, he resignedly accepted that his fantasies were not coming true on that particular night. 

 

He slipped out of the room as quietly as possible, slinking through the dark halls back to his own quarters. Visions of a different reality, one lit up with the smile of his King, whirred about his mind as he reached his chambers and quickly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // nice


	12. These Four Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 12 WARNING(s): mentions of violence

“Where should I put these?” The voice of a young servant asked. Seongwoo didn’t bother turning to face the boy, gaze fixed at the scene beyond his window.

 

“Put it with the others,” Ong replied, a twinge of acute irritation stabbing his chest. He could hear the servant boy shuffling around behind him, but he didn’t care. His eyes were glued to the dreary scene before him. Thick, low hanging clouds hung in the sky, choking out any rays of sunlight that dare try to penetrate them. Though rain wasn’t currently falling, a slick layer of wet seemed to have settled on everything outside the castle; winter had just scarcely passed, but all of the plant life in the gardens out front had apparently lost the memo, not quite remembering that they were in fact supposed to be green instead of a dull grayish brown. The concubine could feel the chilled breeze seeping through the seams of his window.

 

Despite all this, Seongwoo envied those he saw trudging about in the wet and mud. Gardeners, servants, and even a few nobles hugged their waxed cloaks closely, walking around in mother nature’s mess. Seongwoo wished so badly that he could be them. He envied those who had the privilege of walking outside; though, in his current state of being, he envied those who could even walk beyond the boundaries of their room. Ong remembered the scene all too vividly. It must have been a week ago, he figured.

 

Seongwoo had slept terribly after his altercation with the King. Every little noise had caused him to jolt awake, terrified that his highness would come bursting through the door to finish his job. Ong vaguely remembered the sky growing light before he’d managed to be put out properly, but that hadn’t lasted long. A few hours later he’d been woken up once more by noise.

 

Metallic clinks right next to his ears had caused him to jump up, nearly colliding with the person hovering over his bed. Exhausted and fearful, Seongwoo had to suppress his immediate urge to assault the poor servant. That was when the concubine had received the dreadful news.

 

“What’s this?!” Ong had asked, chagrined.

 

“Wh- I- Oh, h-his highness did not tell you… Right, yes. I, um…” The servant had fidgeted nervously, his pupils shaking. “I am to tell you…”

 

“What are you to tell me?! What’s going on?”

 

“Your highness has ordered th-that, well…”

  
“Well…?”

 

“Your highness has ordered that you are to be confined to your chambers until further notice!” He’d finally blurted out.

 

“Wh… How long is ‘until further notice’?” 

 

“I-I don’t know, sir. I-I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!” The servant had even gone to the extent of holding his hands in front of his face to shield himself as if Seongwoo was going to lash out at him as he did the Duke. 

 

“Why’re you here then?” Ong had tried his best not to sound as disordered as he felt.

 

“I am simply installing your lead, sir. S-so you can’t, you know… Escape. N-not that you would try anything! You were just sleeping and w-we were told to do so when you were sleeping there wouldn’t be...”

 

“So there wouldn’t be  _ what _ ?”

 

“...A need for… Reinforcements…” The servant had squeaked out the last few syllables of his utterance. Ong’s fatigued mind had needed some time to process exactly what he’d just learned. His few hours of sleep had given him little aid in the endeavor.

 

When his mind had finally managed to piece together some words, he spoke, “So I can’t leave?!” He’d turned to eye the lead which had been locked into place. When the concubine’s eyes had shifted over to the servant, the boy clutched the small key in his hand more closely. The jittery servant had looked as if he was ready to run away at any second, but another person entered the room, cutting him off before he could stutter out another response.

 

“Seongwoo?” The man who’d entered asked. He was tall and looked older, perhaps around thirty years of age. Ong honestly couldn’t remember anything else of note nor did he care to. The older man had dismissed the servant boy who, much to Ong’s dismay, had run off with the key to his lead in haste.

 

“Let me get a look at you,” The man had said, grabbing the concubine’s face. For a moment, Seongwoo’s fight or flight response had flared up, willing him to make a break for it or gauge the man’s eyes out; however, he’d done neither, freezing up instead. “The King himself called on me early this morning, said you took a nasty blow. Now, let’s see…” It had turned out that the imposing figure was not an executioner, but a doctor. The man had inspected him, applied some sort of a healing poultice to his temple, and redressed it. Seongwoo recalled falling asleep shortly after, but little precisely after that. 

 

Since then, he’d hardly seen a soul; sentenced to isolation, the passage of time had smeared into some kind of mirage. The only humans who had been in his presence were servants. Once a day he was delivered a meal; there was also the matter of the other deliveries he had been receiving daily. 

 

“Is this all right?” The servant in the room asked. Ong finally decided to acknowledge him, taking a break from the astoundingly ordinary scene outside.

 

“Yes.Thank you.” Seongwoo replied, eyeing his delivery.

 

Since his first day of confinement, he’d been receiving flowers. Every afternoon, like clockwork, a servant brought an armful of forsythia in a painted vase. After a week, the yellow blooms nearly spanned an entire wall. 

 

“D-do you like them?” The servant asked awkwardly. It was quite obvious that the man himself didn’t care but had been asked to inquire. Ong rolled his eyes, not dignifying it with an answer; he waved the servant away. 

 

When the first vase of flowers was dropped off, he’d been confused; with the second one, he’d conceded to the messenger that they did look pretty in contrast with the deep mahogany and ebony tones of his room. By the third or fourth he realized that the servants weren’t making conversation, they were looking for an answer. 

 

After he’d charmed one of the lady servants the fourth day, he managed to coerce the answer to his own question from her. According to her, his highness was very interested in how his concubine was doing. He, apparently, hoped the flowers would “cheer Seongwoo up” (or so she told him); as reported by her: his highness seemed “awfully regretful about something”. She proved fairly informative, gossiping about how the Duke had been lurking about in court (“One of the harolds told one of the laundresses who told me that Duke Hwang  _ refuses  _ to meet with the King, but he won’t leave either?!”).

 

Seongwoo considered the King lucky that his lead didn’t give him allowance to get past his hidden door. Even if he couldn’t open it, at the very least he would have loved to bang on it, yelling a few obscenities. Some nerve, Seongwoo thought, to try “cheering” up the very person you’ve decided to imprison. Even more irritating is that the man was a mere wall away yet he insisted on asking servants to report on him instead of approaching his own concubine.

 

Everything about the situation nauseated Seongwoo. 

 

With a newfound contempt for his forced change in lifestyle, Ong returned his gaze to his window. Even if he could not speak with people, watching them proved more entertaining than trying to break his record for how long he could sleep in a day. 

 

Once again mother nature had cast a cloak of gray over the sky. The gloomy conditions did little to stop the nobles who walked happily through the brown gardens. Seongwoo began reminiscing about walking through verdant gardens as a child, but a tiny noise interrupted his daydreaming.

 

“ _ Shiff _ .” 

 

A quiet noise sounded out from the doorway. Ong groaned inwardly hoping it wasn’t more flowers. His brow furrowed in annoyance as his head snapped to the door. 

 

Much to his surprise, he saw nothing.

 

The concubine squinted his eyes in suspicion, eyes fixed on the door. He’d always considered the possibility that, perhaps, at some point, someone he knew would come tell him he could be let off of his lead. A tiny sliver of optimism hoped that the noise he heard was that person, but after the minutes of silence that followed, his hope had quickly been dashed. Eyeing his door again, Seongwoo finally recognized something of note. 

 

Literally.

 

A small piece of paper donning a splotch of red wax sat on the floor, mere inches away from the crack of his door. Ong furrowed his brow; he had never received a note in the castle before. Warily, he approached, climbing over his bed to make it across the room. 

 

When he reached his doorway, his lead nearly taut, he studied the folded piece of paper carefully. It looked thin; there was likely not anything tucked inside it. It was ivory in color, newer paper, and folded simply. Even though Ong knew there was no danger in a mere note, he approached with caution, carefully sliding it across the floor with his toe. He finally decided it was safe to investigate more closely when nothing suddenly ignited on fire or something of the sort. The concubine had heard about poisons that killed on contact; just to be safe, he tucked his hands into the sleeves of his shirt before picking the note up. 

 

“Wh-” Seongwoo muttered to himself, “No crest?” He scooted across his bed once more, bringing the note into the light. His eyes had not deceived him.

 

Though a splotch of red had sealed the note, the melted substance bore no crest whatsoever; it was just a small lump of shapeless wax. Turning the note over and every which way, Seongwoo saw nothing. No marks, no words, no indication of who may have sent it. After a few more moments of awkwardly fiddling with the paper, Seongwoo broke the seal. With the barrier of fabric between the paper and his fingers, maneuvering it felt a bit awkward, but he managed. Willing himself not to hesitate any further, the concubine unfolded the paper and read the words scrawled across it:

 

“ _ Never pull that stunt in court again. _ ”

 

The letters were written neatly in dark ink; they looked clean, probably written shortly before delivery. Nothing else was on the page. No signature or markings of any kind, not even an erroneous drip of ink. Just a few, simple words. 

 

Ong’s throat constricted and his heart dropped. He reread the note again and again. The words were blunt and not explicitly threatening, yet they sat upon his shoulders like heavy weights. It served as a stark reminder to Seongwoo of two things: one, that he was always being watched, and two, that he wasn’t as safe as he’d like to have thought. The words burned themselves into the back of his mind.

 

After what felt like an hour, Seongwoo could no longer bare looking at the letter. He crumpled the vexing thing in his hand before tossing it into his fireplace where he watched it burn. Incandescent flames lapped at the edges of paper before consuming it whole. The concubine watched as ivory turned to black soot, crumbling until nothing but ash remained. Though his letter was gone, it left behind a venomous trace of the unease it had caused him.

 

It wasn’t as if Ong had felt warm and cozy in the role of King’s concubine. He hadn’t deluded himself to thinking that he was in for an easy time. Yet, seeing those letters penned to him so casually, he felt as if he’d lost what little illusion of security he’d had. Ong decided to take action before he could let his hysteric mind torment him to madness. Though he had little power to do much, he decided he at least had power over himself. He took a seat on his bed and closed his eyes. 

 

In slowly through the nose, hold, and out slowly through the nose.

 

In slowly through the nose, hold, and out slowly through the nose.

 

It had been awhile since he’d needed to use breathing techniques to calm himself down, but he soon managed to lull his body into a more serene state. He felt better even if it did not provide any immediate solutions to his problems. 

 

The concubine wished so badly that he could know what was going on in the world beyond his four walls. He had no idea how the court had reacted, what the King was up to, or how anyone else felt. Did Yeri hate him? Would Guanlin ever regard him with respect again? Did King Daniel still want to keep him? Questions regarding where he stood plagued Seongwoo’s mind restlessly.

 

Just as Ong began praying for answers, a small idea sprouted in his head. He glanced over at the wall he shared with King Daniel. He felt immensely stupid for not thinking of it before. Surely the man would be returning to his quarters to dress for dinner, Seongwoo thought. He crept as close to the hidden door as he could reach with his lead. He pressed his ear to the crack in his wall, hoping he could hear something.

 

After a few minutes of silence, the concubine began feeling stupid. However, just before he gave up altogether, he heard something.

 

* * *

 

“-Well what is he doing? He keeps staring at me coldly… It unsettles me.” King Daniel paced into his chambers, arms crossed. The frown he wore on his face had been there for a week. 

 

“I- I don’t know what he’s thinking. Do I look like a mind reader to you?” His advisor, Yoon Jisung, replied. The older man pinched the bridge of his nose. He had no qualms about displaying his dwindling patience.

 

“I’m sorry, Jisung, I just- He hasn’t said a word to me since…”

 

“Since your concubine punched him in the face?” The advisor said bluntly.

 

King Daniel sighed, “Yes, since that. Yet he insists on remaining at court.”

 

“You apologized, didn’t you?”

 

“Of course I did. Multiple times at this point. The most I have received in response is a nod and one icy cold ‘thank you’.” Silence lingered between the two for a minute before the advisor spoke again.

 

“You know what he wants,” Jisung said. 

 

The King took a moment before responding, “No," his voice obstinate. 

 

“No as in, you do not know what I am implying, or-”

 

“No,” Daniel said again. “Surely the Duke will not halt routine trade negotiations over-”

 

“Your concubine violently lashed out at a noble and has faced no apparent consequences. You expect Duke Hwang to take such blatant disrespect and contempt lightly? We should be grateful he remains here-”

 

“So he absolutely needs Seongwoo dead? Is this what he’s told you?!”

 

“He- No. He hasn’t told me- W-well… Not explicitly. In words. You know how he is. Cold and vague... And handsome-”

 

“He wants his head? He wants my concubine’s head?”

 

“It was… Implied… In passing during some… Talks over cards-”

 

“-As if it is his decision?”

 

“I-I mean perhaps we could talk him down to-”

 

“To what, exactly? Cutting off is hand? Would that make him sleep easier? You seem awfully at ease about this.” The King said indignantly. Jisung’s eyes widened; never had he seen the man in such a fit over such an easy to fix matter. He’d rarely seen Daniel in a rage about anything in their many years of friendship.

 

“Your highness, with the utmost respect, you have to consider how crucial the Hwang Duchy is to us. We can’t afford to lose his loyalty over such a trifle.”

 

“A trifle?” Daniel scoffed. “A trifle?! This is a man’s life, Jisung. We are  _ not _ hurting him again-”

 

“Daniel!” Jisung’s voice boomed, “I think you fail to see where it is your priorities  _ should  _ lie right now. Is the wellbeing of a- a- concubine more important than our Kingdom’s diplomatic relations?!”

 

“If this had happened to Sungwoon would you be arguing with me about this?” Daniel shot back coldly.

 

The advisor sputtered, taken aback by the blow. “Wh-what? What did you say?”

 

“I said, if this were to involve Sungwoon-”

 

“How  _ dare  _ you.” Jisung spat. The last of his patience for the King’s antics “You know that he’s- he is… Different.”

 

“So you are allowed the privilege of considerations for your concubine over the King?”

 

“That is not what I said. Anyways, Sungwoon would never do something so stupid. Stop avoiding the issue. Just because you’re the King doesn’t mean you can get your way all the time. You need to make this right.” Daniel didn’t respond for awhile, letting his advisor’s words hang in the air. When he finally spoke once more, his voice sounded soft.

 

“You truly think that will make him happy? That… That will set things right?” A grim expression fell over his face, and he struggled to look Jisung in the eye. Suddenly, the advisor felt strangely guilty. Daniel looked more like a child who had been reprimanded than a King. 

 

“We can do it by poison, you know. He- He won’t even notice a thing.” The advisor said, giving an extremely feeble attempt at comfort.

 

Daniel shook his head. The fire that had flared within him just minutes before had been reduced to smoldering embers. “There has to be another way. I will try speaking with him once more. Surely more land, or-”

 

“Daniel, stop,” Jisung said, dejected in his own right. It wasn’t as if he loved the proposition, either; his sense of duty is what urged the quick solution, not a desire for bloodshed. “Just stop. Must you make everything so difficult for yourself?” There was no response. “You cannot be King without hurting a few of people upon occasion, that is life. I implore you to think about it, your highness. But- Please, think fast. I’m not sure how much longer the Duke will wait around for a… proper apology.”

 

Daniel sighed, crestfallen, “I suppose I shall… Think.”

 

“Thank you, your highness.”

 

“Now, please, leave me.” The King excused his advisor, waving him away. Jisung obliged, saying a polite goodbye before leaving the man in his quarters. Just seconds after the door to his chambers closed, Daniel’s temper flared again. He lashed out at the thing nearest to him, a small table with a vase of fresh flowers. The innocent bystander stood no chance against his highness’s fury, and the ensuing sound of shattering glass and splintering wood echoed loudly.

 

When his state of frenzy subsided, shame and guilt trickled in to replace it. He sighed deeply, burying his face in his hands as he dropped to his knees in exasperation.

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo jerked back from the wall in shock. His blood froze and his vision swam, blurring and shifting around the edges. His limbs did not feel like his own, and when he lifted his hand to his face, it trembled uncontrollably. Hearing became difficult as the strange buzz that had settled in his ears grew louder and louder. He put great effort toward steadying his uneven breaths with little success. Logical thought had flooded out of his mind, replaced with profoundly intense discomfort. Looking in the direction of his fireplace, the concubine considered that perhaps he’d already been poisoned. That idea gave him no comfort; it only served to make his vision distort more.

 

When a booming knock sounded out from his door, Seongwoo nearly jumped halfway across his room. The gasp his body had wanted to let out got caught in his throat. As the concubine choked on his breath, the world around him dimmed. The last thing Ong saw was the blurred silhouette of a figure approaching him.

 

* * *

 

“...Seong… Seongwoo… Seongwoo!” A sharp voice roused Seongwoo. The concubine immediately jumped up again, leaping back from the person who appeared at his bedside. Without paying them any attention, he backed away as far as possible, yanking desperately on his chain. His vision still danced with lights, but his immediate reflex was to get as far away as possible from whoever had entered his room.

 

“Wh- Seongwoo! Why are you running?!” The person groaned, their voice began sounding familiar. Ong paused for a moment, turning to look his maybe-executioner in the face. Instead of a burly person donning a mask or an ax or a noose, a tiny, confused looking man stood with arms crossed and an exasperated expression.

 

“Sungwoon? Wh… What is your business?” Ong said breathily. He leaned on his bed for balance, winded from the panic. Part of him felt a bit relieved. If Sungwoon had been sent to kill him, he thought he had a fighting chance.

 

“What is your business? What’s got you so worked up? I come for a visit and this is how I’m greeted.”

 

“A visit... I’ve been allowed no visitors as far as I know.” Ong replied, wary.

 

“Well, I may have… Pulled a few strings.”

 

“Pulled some strings? You have such clout?”

 

“Fine, I bribed the guard with some sweets one of the kitchen girls had smuggled me.” Sungwoon crossed his arms and pouted. “Happy?”

 

“No,” Ong answered frankly. He wore a sullen expression.

 

Sungwoon tilted his head in confusion, “I thought you’d be thrilled to see someone other than a servant, however, if you prefer I leave.”

 

“Wait!” Seongwoo interrupted him. He assumed that if Sungwoon was the harbinger of his execution, he would have been behaving differently. The guide never showed Seongwoo any aptitude for acting, nor a desire to pursue it, so he doubted it was deception. At the very least, Ong thought, Sungwoon could shed some light on his current status. 

 

“Don’t go.” Ong said, “I apologize, I have been short of temper lately.”

 

“Actually I… I think I owe you the apology,” Sungwoon said, his eyes cast downward. “Of course you would be upset, you’ve been cooped up in this room for days.”

 

“I-I suppose it could be worse. It’s not your fault anyway, I’m just paying for my own indiscretions.”

 

“That’s- That’s the thing.” Sungwoon frowned, looking at Seongwoo apologetically, “It was my job to prepare you for court. I should have warned you how the nobles would act, I- I guess I thought you would have known. It was so stupid of me, and now,” He gestured to the long chain keeping Seongwoo anchored to his bed, “-now all of this. I am so, so sorry, Seongwoo. I have failed you as a mentor and a guide.”

 

Ong stared with wide eyes. He had no idea how to respond, absolutely shocked by the other man’s remorse. Not once had he thought to blame Sungwoon for what had transpired, and even with Sungwoon’s assertion of guilt, he still saw no reason to.

 

“No, no, not at all,” Seongwoo said, “I- Perhaps I could have been warned, but, it is not your fault that I am in this state now. It’s not like I’m going to die...Right?” The concubine eyed the bespectacled man carefully, searching for any sign of knowledge, any glint of recognition. He saw nothing. Only the dismal visage of a man who’d put the burdens of the world upon his own shoulders. 

 

“I don’t know…” Sungwoon admitted. “This is your first offense and you are new. You also belong to the King and he seems quite fond of you. I doubt they would go to such drastic measures. I think.”

 

“You think?” Ong hardly felt reassured.

 

“Well…” Sungwoon chewed on his lower lip.

 

“Well?”

 

The older man fidgeted with his glasses a bit before responding, “Well, Duke Hwang is an incredibly valuable ally to the Kingdom. He has a large territory, a fairly formidable personal army, and favorable location for both trade and tactics.”

 

“Oh?” Ong quirked an eyebrow, “Where is he exactly? I-I mean what makes his territory more important than my life.”

 

Sungwoon chuckled bitterly, “Do not take offense, but, well most territories are considered more important than our lives. His… Well, he is seated to the southeast.”

 

“He is not by the sea, is he? Does he have ships?”

 

“Not quite on the coast, but he essentially serves as a middleman of sorts… Assures safe passage for trade from the coast to us further inland. Of course with all the trouble at sea- Wait, what does this have to do with anything?”

 

“Sungwoon,” Ong groaned, “I haven’t had a conversation with anyone other than the birds outside my window in days. Please, let me have this. I need to distract myself...”   
  


The older man frowned again, another wave of guilt washing over him, “Right. I’m sorry.” An awkward silence fell between the two, making the passing minutes excruciatingly uncomfortable. Seongwoo’s reality weighed heavily on both of them, and neither of them wanted to think about it. Unfortunately, in avoiding the topic, it inevitably rose to the top of their minds. 

 

Tortured by the quiet and uncertainty, Seongwoo spoke once more, “What if I told you I knew they were going to kill me.” He finally said. The thought of it made his heart drop once more, but he focused on breathing to steady himself. He watched Sungwoon carefully, his last chance to search for any trace of deceit or trickery. Had Sungwoon been in the loop, he gave absolutely no indication. Ong made a mental note to commend the man for such acting skills should he be betrayed, but he trusted his instincts regarding the guide. Seongwoo got an odd inkling that the man had something to hide, but knowledge of his execution wasn’t it.

 

“How could you know that?” Sungwoon staggered backward, disturbed. “D-Did they tell you? Did they give you a notice?! That… That cannot happen. Not- not just after a- It was an accident, wasn’t it?”

 

“It was on purpose.”

 

“You were drunk.”

 

“Not drunk enough.”

 

“Seongwoo, how did you get this information? It could just be court rumors, you know how people love to gossip-” Ong nodded toward the wall he shared with his Master, frowning. Sungwoon had much more intimate knowhow on navigating the castle, physically and diplomatically. Given his limited options, the guide was the best he had in terms of hopes.

 

“He discussed it in private… I see.” Sungwoon took a seat on the edge of Seongwoo’s bed, wringing his hands together. “What did he say? If I may ask.” Seongwoo joined the other on his bed, opting to lay down and stare at the ceiling.

 

“They.” Ong clarified. “They being my Master, and, well, yours.” Sungwoon’s shoulders slumped, but he didn’t respond. Seongwoo continued, “They said that they need to… Make things right. That the Duke won’t wait much longer. Your master suggested poison, something that would assure I didn’t feel it! His highness said he would have a think on the matter.”

 

“That’s… Hardly a confirmation.” Sungwoon replied weakly.

 

“Oh? Hardly a confirmation?” Ong laughed wryly. “What sort of confirmation should I expect then? Will it be confirmed when I seize and foam at the mouth, or, perhaps, a dagger in my throat? Hell, they may even go for the old-fashioned executioner!  I suppose all of those options are better than getting tied to horses…”

 

“Stop it!” Sungwoon yelled. 

 

Ong sat up, surprised by the outburst, “What do you care?! You just want to feel less guilty, you don’t give a shit about me. None of you do.” He spoke with venom. Sungwoon turned to Seongwoo with a hard expression. Though he initially looked like he wanted to scream obscenities at the other concubine, his face softened. 

 

“I understand how awful we all must look from your perspective. Trust me, I get it, but…” Sungwoon extended a hand towards Ong’s shoulder. Though he seemed as if he intended to give it a comforting squeeze, he recoiled, merely setting the hand down next to the other. “You’re an idiot.” He said frankly. Seongwoo’s jaw dropped, but just before he was about to tell Sungwoon his own scathing opinions, the older man spoke again.

 

“You’re an idiot and I like you.” Ong’s face changed from anger to befuddlement. “I want to help you, genuinely… It’s just… I have no power to.” Sungwoon threw his hands in the hair, utterly defeated.

 

Seongwoo believed him. It dawned on him that Sungwoon had probably been brought in as a concubine for a reason, too. He considered that the two may have even been in the exact same situation. Ong had absolutely no wish to walk the path Sungwoon had, if anything, his goals were the polar opposite of what Sungwoon’s seemed to be. Despite that, he realized that directing bitterness and cruelty to someone who had little more say than he did would accomplish nothing. Using Sungwoon as an outlet for his frustration would only serve to alienate the one person he could consider close to a friend in the stone walls of Castle Jeon.

 

“It can’t be helped.” Ong sighed, tears started to blur his vision. “If Duke Hwang wants my head on a platter, he shall have it, I suppose.” It felt surreal to him to accept such a thing, to speak so casually about his own death. Part of him held out some kind of hope that the King’s supposed kindness would prevail above all else, but, remembering the last time he’d spoken to the man, he doubted any such consideration would be given to him.

 

Sungwoon shook his head, “Your head on a platter, your ass on a platter… If the Duke wants it, we are hardly in a position to turn him down. The Kingdom can’t afford to lose his support, and we are but concubines… Perhaps you could escape- But… The guards will surely go after you even if you are incognito, and-”

 

“Wait.” Seongwoo sat up straight as a needle.

 

“I- What?” Sungwoon flinched, startled by the sudden surge of life in the man next to him.

 

The damned concubine merely muttered to himself, “Wait… Wait… Wait…” Sungwoon could see the gears turning in the other man’s head, working toward something.

 

“Wait… What? Seongwoo, have you gone mad with grief?” Sungwoon was officially spooked.

 

“What did you just say? R-Repeat that, repeat what it is you just said.” Seongwoo sounded manic.

 

“I… I… Wh-What thing?”

 

“J-Just all of it, what you- you said about the Duke, and-”

 

Sungwoon indulged the other despite how secretly terrified he was of the newly frantic man buzzing beside him. “I- Okay. I, um. I don’t know, I was talking about Duke Hwang, and… He can have whatever he wants. If he wants you dead, if he wants you alive, it doesn’t matter. We’re concubines. Any semblance of power we have is a mere illusion-”

 

“What if I can give the Duke what he wants? ” Ong said. 

 

“What? I thought the point was that we didn’t want you to die- Didn’t- didn’t we just go over that?”

 

Seongwoo swallowed hard. With jumbled nerves and bated breath, his heart whizzed furiously around in his chest. He looked at Sungwoon, the tears in his eyes gone, replaced with a twinkle of mischief mixed with nerves. Though it wavered, the man gave his guide a lopsided grin that could almost be called confident.

 

“Sungwoon,” Seongwoo said, his voice both shaky yet hopeful, “How good are you at forgery?”


	13. Inadvisable Actions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 13 WARNING(s): explicit sexual content, violence, dubcon, side pairing

Nobles lined the lavishly adorned table in the east wing dining room, gleefully chattering amongst each other like a flock of birds. Court musicians strummed their guitars; it melded with the echoing conversation to wrap the room in a blanket of low, muddled sound. Atop the long tables, glossed porcelain plates were topped with breads, roast bird, snow peas, mackerel, and rice tossed with fried almonds. Servants rushed around to assure every shining crystal chalice remained full of wine.

 

Though it’d been nearly a week, many courtiers still whispered about Duke Hwang’s encounter with the rowdy concubine; some even dared to glance at him when they thought he wasn’t looking. Those who had moved on discussed court topics ranging from economics to trade to marriage prospects. The Duke himself was engaged in an amicable conversation with Duke Choi Minki, an old friend of his. 

 

Duke Hwang Minhyun favored the east dining hall for many reasons. For one, he preferred the decor. The color scheme drew from the deep navy tones in the crest, and rich, navy velvet textiles draped across the ceiling, cascading down the walls. He preferred the polished marble tile, laid out in a simple chevron, more inviting than the dark wood that the west dining room had. He respected the portraits of decorated warlords that looked down on the nobles from the walls, each accompanied with an ornate weapon to signify their triumphs. The accompanying dinnerware suited the cool, sharply decorated place. However, most of all, Minhyun favored the east dining hall because King Daniel did not dine there. 

 

Initially, Duke Hwang thought it would be entertaining to sit at the same table as his highness, staring daggers at the man. It soon struck him that the idea was terrible and had any of his peers caught him in such childish behavior, it would stain his already tarnished reputation. With each passing day, Minhyun could not help but be surprised by his highness’s stubbornness. Typically, he was rather yielding and easy to please. The man would, at bare minimum, compromise or negotiate terms with nobles; yet on the touchy subject of his concubine, he’d not budged. He had not even approached the Duke much to the nobleman’s shock.

 

“ _ Minhyun _ .” A voice cut through the Duke’s contemplations. Minhyun blinked, turning to acknowledge the man beside him with whom he had been speaking with.

 

“Oh, goodness. Sorry, Minki. A bit lost in thought.” Minhyun gave the man an apologetic smile. Much like himself, Choi Minki had also come to Castle Jeon for his education come adolescence. Along with King Daniel, General Park, and an assorted collection of other would-be nobles, they trained for their futures as members of the court. Years later, the two sat side by side as titled noblemen, each with their own territory to govern and men to command. How time flies, Duke Hwang mused. 

 

Minki shrugged, “I suppose I did ask you a bit of a thoughtful question, I suppose.” He took a dainty sip from his chalice. “I mean… Surely the King will break down any day now, see things your way.”

 

“Yes, I would have thought so, too. Perhaps the King has finally grown a spine. What awful timing.”

 

“Come now, no need to talk so bitterly about an old friend.” Minki said with a snicker. “I know you spend much less time here than I, so you haven’t seen him in action, but… He is much more calculated than he seems. A bit too accommodating? Perhaps. However he can have strong convictions on which he doesn’t budge.”

 

“Hmph.” Minhyun replied with a pout, tearing off a piece of bread to stuff in his mouth.

 

“That is why I ask what are you doing, my friend? I don’t think his concubine should get off so lightly, either. But he is the King.”

 

Minhyun frowned, swallowing before he spoke, “And we are nobles. We are just as important to him and this Kingdom as he to us. Shouldn’t he recognize that? Why should I be the victim of an assault and then be expected to come crawling to him, asking for negotiations?”

 

“Well, for one, because you need his help.” Minki said matter of factly. Minhyun scowled at the other Duke. He normally would regard such bluntness with disdain, but Minki had truly been a friend to him in his earlier years. Duke Hwang could genuinely say he trusted the man, something rare for him. Before Minhyun could utter a response, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

 

“Message for Duke Hwang.” A young herald said, extending a tray with a letter on it with a bow.

 

Minhyun pursed his lips, displeased, “Are you new at this, boy? I am clearly in the middle of a meal.”

 

“You have my deepest apologies, Duke. I would not have delivered this during dinner had it not been a direct order from his highness, King Daniel.” The Duke’s expression of annoyance immediately fell, replaced by one of curiosity. 

 

“Oh?” He and Duke Choi exchanged intrigued looks. “And did his highness elaborate at all as to why the timing was so hasty?”

 

“His highness did want me to inform you that it is a time sensitive matter. He also said it best if you read it somewhere private.” Duke Choi playfully elbowed Minhyun with a delighted look on his face.

 

“Of course.” Minhyun replied, taking the sealed letter. When the servant left, he turned to Minki, “Stop giving me that look. You look happier than I am.”

 

“Perhaps he’s broken down finally. Oh- Open it! Open it! What does it say?”

 

Duke Hwang held the note to his chest defensively, “It’s not your message! Get punched by a concubine then maybe you can get one of your own.” Duke Choi pouted animatedly. “Well, I ought to excuse myself. I am curious as to the contents of this. Assuming it’s business related I want to get matters sorted as soon as possible. Thank you for the conversation, Minki- I mean, Duke.”

 

Minki gave Minhyun a grin, responding, “The pleasure is all mine,  _ Duke  _ Hwang.” Minhyun laughed at the man’s animated flair as he dismissed himself from the table politely. With his rank, nobody dared openly question why he was leaving dinner early.

 

Duke Hwang exited the dining room, and the noise of those in it faded until it was nothing more than a dull echo. The halls were empty save for a few guards and servants. When Minhyun found a particularly deserted corridor, he tucked himself between a torch and a sculpture to read his note.

 

Holding it up to the light, Duke Hwang analyzed the letter. The red wax had been embedded with what was undeniably the Kang Kingdom’s crest. The seal depicted the image of a mighty dog holding a peach between its teeth. Minhyun chuckled inwardly. It struck him as ironic how perfectly the symbol of a dog matched King Daniel: friendly, loving, and ever so loyal. He briefly pictured King Kang Daniel conducting court business with floppy ears and a wagging tail. Regret immediately flooded  him as he realized how uncomfortable imagining such a thing made him. He much preferred his own family’s crest animal, the fox; a creature known to be cunning, wise, and mystical.

 

Minhyun decided he needed to stop going on mental tangents and read his letter. He ran his finger through the seal and unfolded the letter, reading its contents intently.

 

“ _ Duke Hwang, _

 

_ After much consideration, I have decided to take action in amending our strained relationship. In your quarters you will find a token of my apology. It is at your disposal to use as you wish for the night - only this night. _

 

_ I hope that you will find this peace offering an adequate starting point for our future negotiations. I expect to hear from you in the morning. _

 

_ Your King, _

 

_ Kang Daniel _ ”

 

A wicked grin spread across the Duke’s lips as he read the lettering over and over again.

 

“I’d honestly had hoped you’d kill him, but… This is so much better.” He muttered to himself, starting to pace in the direction of his quarters, “Perhaps you’re a bit calculated after all.”

 

* * *

 

“This is a terrible idea.” Sungwoon whispered, his eyes darting around the unfamiliar bed chambers spastically. 

 

“It’s a better idea than leaving my fate in that jackass’s hands.” Ong replied bitterly.

 

“You mean the King?”

 

“Yes, that ass.”

 

“You really shouldn’t talk about your Master like that, you know. He is-”

 

“If someone considers killing me, I will exercise my God-given right to call him an ass.”

 

“You’re a concubine. You have no God-given rights.” Seongwoo opened his mouth to fire back with a quip but ultimately closed it in defeat, narrowing his eyes at Sungwoon, his advisor and ally. Thinking more about it, Seongwoo realized just how much Sungwoon had put on the line to help him. The older man had busied himself all afternoon to help execute Ong’s desperate plan. 

 

Ong’s plan was simple in theory: he would give himself over to Minhyun, pretending to be King Daniel issuing a punishment. He knew the idea ran the risk of injury, traumatization, and even death, but all of those possibilities beat waiting around to get beheaded. Seongwoo felt that, even if his fate played out in the most dismal, brutal way, he rather be killed knowing he had influenced the outcome somehow. Sungwoon abhorred it, but due to his guilt (and the liking he’d reluctantly taken to the troublesome concubine), he loaned his aid.

 

In the matter of a few hours, Sungwoon had found a spare signet stamp with the Kingdom’s crest. He’d managed to dig up one of his highness’s letters from a pile of discarded orders and notes in one of the kitchen maid's work areas. He and Seongwoo had formulated a believable message, and he’d managed to pen the characters in his highness’s style after only a few tries. Once the note had been squared away, Sungwoon had to get Seongwoo unchained.

 

Seongwoo didn’t know the intimate details, but from what Sungwoon had told him, it involved juggling many favors and a few material bribes. When the guide had finally arrived with the keys that would free him from his bed, Ong had been tempted to make a break for the nearest door. While the idea had entertained him for a few romantic moments, he knew with guards and nobles around every corner, he would never make it far. Moreso, he would have never forgiven himself if he had incriminated Sungwoon in doing such a thing, especially after the man had stuck his neck out so far to help him. Ultimately, though he despised it, Seongwoo knew his time in Castle Jeon wasn’t over. Not yet.

 

“Okay, how does that feel?” Sungwoon asked. Once the two had gotten Ong unchained, it was merely a matter of getting him to Duke Hwang’s room. That had been accomplished similarly to their other tasks: with a healthy amount of sneaking around, bribery, and a pinch of flirting (Sungwoon had a surprising amount of charm when necessary). Upon arrival, Sungwoon had sent off a messenger with their letter, leaving little time for the final touch.

 

“Not too bad,” Ong replied, wiggling his ankle. “Make it tighter. I need to look less comfortable.” Sungwoon bit his lip, his hands shakily tightening the leather cuff around his ankle. In order to make Seongwoo’s punishment as convincing as possible, the two agreed that he needed to be as vulnerable as possible. Once Ong had taken his clothes off, Sungwoon helped tether him to the Duke’s bed. His hands were bound at the wrists behind his back, leaving just his feet to be taken care of.

 

“How about now?”

 

Ong moved his ankle once again, finding it near impossible to make any large motions. “It’s perfect,” He said. “Now do the other one just like it.” Sungwoon obliged, working with haste to tighten the leather straps.

 

“No present is complete without the bow,” Sungwoon said with a forced chuckle. He grabbed a strip of black silk, lifting it to Seongwoo’s face.

 

“What? What’s this?” Ong asked, eyeing it with confusion.

 

“This,” Sungwoon said, wrapping it around Ong’s eyes, “Is a blindfold.”

 

“Wh- Wait, I- When did this become part of the plan?”

 

“When I decided so,” Sungwoon said matter of factly. “I’ve known the Duke for years, overheard lots of things about his preferences. Do you know what the Hwang family crest is?”

 

“Why the hell would I know that?”

 

“Rhetorical question, Seongwoo.” The guide said, tying the silk around the other’s face loosely. “Hwang Minhyun’s crest is the fox, and in many ways it is the perfect representation of the man himself.”

 

“What makes you say that all of a sudden?”

 

“Foxes are scavengers. They like to prey on that which is already hurt or dead. Nothing is more inviting to a fox than a wounded animal.”

 

“Ah.” Seongwoo responded as he understood the man’s point. His mind quickly began forming a character; words and actions he could use to gain favor in the eyes of the Duke. “So I shall be blindfolded then…” He mused.

 

“Yes. The more helpless, the better. However, do make it believable.” Ong chuckled. If there was anything he felt confident doing, it was putting on a facade.

 

“I’ll be okay. I’m just thinking of how to make this all work in the context of my story.”

 

“Well, the King’s letter was quite vague. You can take a few liberties with it.”

 

“That I can… I was held down by servants and stripped, blindfolded, bound, and dragged here. I have no idea what is happening to me.” As the story unfolded, Seongwoo felt a small ache in his heart; the story came to him with ease because it was one he’d lived through not long prior.

 

“He’ll love that,” Sungwoon said. “Anything to make the King look like he’s punishing you harshly will ultimately benefit you as well.”

 

“Yes, I am absolutely  _ thrilled  _ that the King will come out of this looking better because of my sacrifice.” Seongwoo rolled his eyes, regardless of the fact that Sungwoon couldn’t see it.

 

“Would you have preferred that the King actually sentence you to such a punishment?” Sungwoon asked.

 

“I would have preferred he did something. Anything, really. As opposed to sitting on his hands, and, I don’t know, waiting for things to fix themselves.”

 

Sungwoon frowned, “Has it occurred to you that he didn’t force you to do what you’re doing now because he did not want to take that route? Had he been a lesser man he probably would have beheaded you or thrown you to the Duke within minutes of your offense. I know you don’t believe so, and I can’t blame you, but the King has a good heart.”

 

“I am tied up right now because of that man. What makes you expect me to believe that he is a good man?”

 

“You are tied up right now because you can’t control your temper. I won’t pretend that things here are all parties and fine wine, but stop acting like such a victim.”

 

“I am a victim!” Ong shouted. “And so are you! Don’t tell me you’re brainwashed like poor Guanlin…” Sungwoon inhaled deeply, holding his breath before exhaling loudly. 

 

When he’d calmed down, he continued speaking, “Seongwoo… There are many things you do not know. You may think I am brainwashed or deluded, but I am not stupid and will not be spoken to as such. Maybe you are stuck here. Maybe you’ll rot in this damn castle. But whether you rot in a beautiful bedroom, dressed in rich clothes or a cold, dank dungeon? That’s on you.”

 

Seongwoo clenched his teeth. Anger boiled in his chest, but it had no rhyme or reason. As much as he absolutely detested everything about his situation, he conceded. Sungwoon had a valid point. He hung his head, sighing in defeat, and soon, guilt replaced his rage. 

 

“I- I’m sorry. I promise I’ve never been one to lose their temper so easily…” Those words were the truth. Ong felt genuinely embarrassed, he’d always known how to keep calm. People in the castle probably thought of him as some thug or fool. Of all people, Sungwoon, his one ally, did not deserve to bear the brunt of his frustration.

 

“Thank you for apologizing,” Sungwoon said, his one tone softer, too. “It’s understandable. You are in a very trying time right now. I am not asking you to be content with the life you’ve been forced to have. I just don’t want to watch you make things harder for yourself than they need to be. There is a time and place to fight that fight. However, as hilarious as it is, punching a Duke accomplishes little more than putting more hurt on yourself. Do not let your anger and prejudice blind you.”

 

“I promise, I’ll try to behave better next time,” Seongwoo said with a chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood.

 

“I have a feeling you won’t, but, valiant effort. You could make it as an actor.” Sungwoon replied. “As fun as it is bantering in the Duke’s room, my stay here is long overdue. Surely he’ll be here soon. Are you alright? Will you be okay if I leave you?”

 

“Yes, mother. I’ll be  _ ever  _ so well behaved on my first day of concubine school.”

 

“I should have brought a gag,” Sungwoon replied, eliciting a snort out of the bound concubine. The older man walked toward the door, cracking it open to see whether or not he’d be spotted. When his path was clear, he turned to give his parting words to the concubine tied up on the bed.

 

“By the way, Seongwoo…”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Just so you know, I can leave whenever I want to.”

 

“What?” Ong’s response came too late; Sungwoon had slipped out the door the second he’d finished speaking. Alone, Seongwoo sat atop the Duke’s bed, puzzled as to what Sungwoon was talking about. When he figured out what the older man had been referring to, it only served to confound him even more.

 

It served as a stark reminder to Seongwoo. As Sungwoon had said:

 

“There are many things you do not know.”

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo’s stage had been set, and the first sound cue rang out as the Duke’s door swung open.

 

“Wh-who’s there?” Seongwoo asked, panicked. He purposefully struggled against the leather straps that bound him, making sure his lean muscles looked as constricted as possible. Throughout his whole dramatic display, only the shivers and goosebumps were genuine, the simple result of cool air against bare skin.

 

Seongwoo prayed that it would work. He couldn’t see anything. Only the ominous sound of boots against hardwood served to give him the indication that time hadn’t frozen. He had a hunch that the Duke would respond to the helpless and confused angle.

 

“Shhh.” A familiar voice hushed him. Suddenly, Seongwoo felt fingertips on his skin. They traced his jawline idly before cupping his chin. A thumb hooked beneath the strip of cloth that served as a gag and slid it down. The same thumb caressed the concubine’s lips, dragging over them slowly, savoring how they felt.

 

“Wh-where am I?” Seongwoo stuttered. A few seconds of silence passed, and, despite the blindfold, Ong could tell Duke Hwang was staring at him. The concubine could picture the Duke’s lips spreading into that debased, fox-like smile of his.

 

“Oh, pet.” Duke Hwang cooed. “You really don’t know?”

 

Ong bit his lip in a fearful manner; he whispered, “I-is that…”

 

“Surely you haven’t forgotten me so easily,” Minhyun said in a singsong voice. “After all, it was just days ago that you and I met. Actually, well, instead of introducing myself again, why don’t I just remind you-” 

 

Knuckles met Seongwoo’s temple with enough force to knock him back onto the bed. Pain caused tears to well up in his covered eyes; it rippled from the point of impact, across his head in tingling waves of discomfort. The concubine could at least be grateful for the soft landing, but it hardly did much for his aching temple. He clenched his teeth on reflex but he ultimately decided to play into the Duke’s desires as much as possible, letting out a yelp. He stayed down on the bed despite the awkward position.

 

“Do you remember me now?” Duke Hwang asked, his voice unsettlingly cool.

 

“Yes, Duke Hwang.” Ong choked out.

 

“That’s a good boy,” Minhyun said. “Do you know why you’re here, Seongwoo?” Ong would have groaned if he could. He knew damn well why he was there. Even if he had been thrown there surprisingly, he would have figured it out the second he heard the Duke’s voice. He knew that the Duke didn’t care, nor did he want to hear the truth. Instead, Seongwoo continued to indulge the man’s lecherous side.

 

“Is it because of…” He sniffled, “Because of what I did?”

 

“You are awfully smart, Seongwoo.” Minhyun seemed to be enjoying the whole affair entirely too much in Ong’s opinion. “You misbehaved, and his highness has seen fit to give me the duty of issuing a punishment.” Those words caused a real shiver to run down Seongwoo’s body. Suddenly, his idea seemed even more stupid than it had in the first place. For a second, he thought that the Duke would really kill him.

 

Duke Hwang seemed to pick up on Seongwoo’s fear, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you.” He chuckled. The man’s laugh almost made Seongwoo wish that he had been sentenced to death, but his survival instinct reigned over all. “We’re just going to have some fun, that’s all.”

 

Ong swallowed as visibly as possible. He uttered pathetically, “Wh-what are you going to do to me?”

 

“Me?” Duke Hwang, his tone incredibly upbeat. “Oh, I don’t intend to do anything to you. Not yet.” Suddenly, someone tore his black silk blindfold off. Seongwoo’s eyes widened as he came face to face with a stranger. At first, he hadn’t the foggiest as to whom he was looking at, but after a moment a small spark of recognition ignited.

 

He’d just barely gotten a glimpse of the man the night he’d punched Minhyun, but up close, the Duke’s concubine looked much more intimidating. Whether he was angry or just naturally looked so, Seongwoo couldn’t tell. He had broad shoulders and a thick, muscular build. The man, Baekho as Minhyun had referred to him, looked the smaller one up and down, his lips pressed into a thin line. Ong’s regret multiplied tenfold; he couldn’t help but think that the man in front of him was about to split him in half. Even worse, Seongwoo could tell that Minhyun absolutely loved his reaction. He’d probably anticipated it, planned it that way. Out of the corner of his eye, Seongwoo could see Minhyun contentedly watching, swirling his glass of wine with a grin on his face. Baekho callously gripped a fistful of Seongwoo’s hair, pulling him close. Seongwoo’s eyes teared up. He could feel the other man’s breath tickling his neck, and his heart lurched.

 

Baekho leaned in, bringing his lips almost flush to the other’s earlobe; then, almost inaudibly, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I will try to make this as pleasant for you as possible.” Ong blinked. For a second, he forgot to act afraid. He hadn’t expected any sort of reassurance, let alone from the man who was built like a tiger.

 

Then the reality dawned on him. Baekho was Duke Hwang’s concubine. Whatever Seongwoo was going to be subjected to, Baekho had probably taken before. Perhaps he’d gotten even worse treatment. Who was to say what happened to a concubine when their Master had a bad day? Seongwoo certainly did not envy the man who had to be there for Duke Hwang’s bad days. The concubine realized: that man was just as trapped as he was.

 

A squeeze at his scalp halted any further thought on Seongwoo’s part. He decided that Baekho would probably have an easier time if his force seemed to hurt the other; so, Seongwoo proceeded with his theatrics. Ong winced as the bulkier man flipped him over, shoving him into the bed beneath. He wiggled a bit, attempting to get into a more comfortable position to no avail. 

 

Baekho handled Seongwoo much like a person would handle a ragdoll or a cushion. Seongwoo felt glad that he wasn’t even trying to resist, because if he was, it would have been a fruitless, despairing endeavor. The larger man kept one hand on Ong’s back while the other roughly pulled held his hips. He returned his fist to Seongwoo’s locks again, yanking his hair to direct his gaze. Seongwoo inhaled sharply, confused as to why he was being pulled around so much. It wasn’t until his gaze settled that he realized what Baekho had been doing, or, more rightly, what the Duke had wanted.

 

Seongwoo’s eyes met Duke Hwang’s. The noble sat like a cat watching a caged bird, giddily watching, waiting. Ong imagined jumping across the room and punching the man’s face once more. He thought about how nice it would be to see Minhyun’s wide-eyed expression before getting a black eye. However, his fantasies were abruptly cut off.

 

“A-ah!” Ong choked and gasped at the sudden, sharp pain stinging inside of him. Two fingers had been shoved in him completely unceremoniously. Minhyun’s satisfied smirk was the last thing Seongwoo saw before tears completely blurred his vision. He buried his face in the sheets beneath him, breaths heaving as Baekho’s fingers scissored in and out of him. After gritting his teeth for a few minutes, the pain became bearable. Whether out of consideration or under orders from the Duke, Baekho’s other hand wrapped around Ong’s cock, stroking slowly.

 

Despite everything, Seongwoo tried to grit his teeth, to derive at least some iota of pleasure among the assault of stimuli. With a bit of focus and the help of his fellow concubine, a minuscule pressure began mounting in his gut, just barely teasing him in tiny flickers. It felt immensely strange considering his circumstances. The Duke had prescribed this treatment as punishment; he happily watched Ong choke and writhe beneath the other. A wave of shame washed over Seongwoo, and even worse, it seemed to add fuel to the fire slowly burning inside of him. Though a lackluster consolation, at the very least the sensation of Baekho’s three fingers inside him had dulled.

 

There was a pause; Baekho withdrew his fingers and Ong heard steps. He briefly wondered if the intense looking man had only been there for preparation. Seongwoo felt relieved when he felt a slick substance near his entrance, the feeling of oil running down his low back and between his ass cheeks. Finally, he thought, a bit of ease. He took even the tiniest courtesy as a blessing. 

 

The fuzzy feelings of blessings and courtesies were immediately violently shattered.

 

“Ah!” Seongwoo wailed as Baekho’s thick cock pushed inside of him in an instant. He shook as rushes of pain influxed throughout his entire body. Pathetic whines dribbled out of his lips until he closed his teeth around the sheets beneath him just to silence himself. Tears ran down his cheeks, wetting the fine linens beneath him. He deplored the fact that he could do nothing else but curl his toes and bite the bed to curb his pain.  His only comforting thought was that the hurt he endured would be better than the end of his life.

 

Baekho started moving and Seongwoo felt as if his insides were being torn apart. 

 

Duke Hwang took his concubine’s actions as a cue of his own, setting down his glass of wine and standing up. He strode cooly toward the bed, gaze fixed on the lewd scene playing out in front of him. His breeches did nothing to hide the bulge beneath. Climbing on the bed, the Duke untied the knot that kept his hose up, freeing his hard cock. He made his way over to Seongwoo, grabbing the concubine’s face to assure that they looked one another in the eye.

 

“I wish you could see yourself now, prideful one,” Minhyun said. He stroked Seongwoo’s lips with his thumb. “Amazing what wonders a tiny bit of force can do. God…  What a waste for you to belong to the King of all people. He would never give you the proper discipline to bring out your obedience.” He stuck his thumb inside Seongwoo’s mouth, and the concubine kept eye contact as he sucked it.

 

“Good boy…” Minhyun said, withdrawing his thumb. He threaded his fingers through Seongwoo’s hair, positioning his hard cock at the other’s lips. 

 

Embarrassment washed over the concubine once more as he parted his lips to take the other man in his mouth. He felt ashamed that he’d thought of such a drastic plan, he felt ashamed that he’d gone through with it, and he felt most immensely ashamed that his humiliation only seemed to stoke the fire burning inside of him. He decided to chalk it up to not having been touched intimately in eons, shoving the thoughts to the back of his mind. He opted to distract himself by plowing through the task at hand, ignoring his own lingering hitches. 

 

Seongwoo’s tongue flicked out from between his lips, timidly flitting across the dripping head of Minhyun’s cock. The Duke sighed happily, pushing the tip between Seongwoo’s lips. The concubine tried his best to look pliant and obedient as if he’d been fucked into submission. He ran his tongue along the vein at the bottom of Minhyun’s cock and swirled it across his head, dipping it into the slit.  He bobbed his head, gradually taking more and more of the Duke’s swollen cock.

 

Minhyun’s patience had quickly worn out. Without any further warning, he abruptly shoved his entire length into the concubine’s mouth, hitting the back of his throat. Seongwoo squeezed his eyes shut as he gagged. There was no respite or moment to process what had happened because the Duke immediately began thrusting in and out of the concubine’s mouth. Vulgar, wet sounds filled the room combined with the Duke’s hitched breaths and Baekho’s breathy moans.

 

Seongwoo was literally caught in the middle, held upright by the two people fucking him. Baekho stayed true to his words, stroking Ong’s cock rhythmically with his thrusts. Tears mixed with saliva and the Duke’s precome ran down his face, dripping down his chin and onto the sheets in a profane display. 

 

The Duke and his concubine fucked Seongwoo roughly for what felt like forever to him. Baekho’s strokes were just enough to keep the low heat in his gut present, but nowhere near enough to get him close. It functioned to curb the unpleasantness but did little more. Ong supposed that was as much as he could ask for given his situation. He’d managed to relax his throat as well as he could, but despite that he still choked up on the Duke occasionally, his chest seizing and eyes tearing up.

 

Minhyun’s thrust became more erratic as time wore on until he moaned loudly, throwing his head back. His cock twitched and he came in long spurts. Seongwoo had no choice but to swallow as ropes of hot liquid spilled into his throat. Minhyun held him in place to ensure he took every last drop before he finally let go of the concubine’s head. The second the Duke let go, Seongwoo crumbled down onto the bed beneath him, gasping for air. Duke Hwang hadn’t said anything, but a command must have been implied because Baekho stopped as well.

 

After the high of orgasm passed, Duke Hwang immediately snapped back to his typical self. He tucked himself back into his breeches as he scooted toward his own concubine. Seongwoo turned to look over his shoulder to watch as the nobleman instructed his own concubine on the proceedings.

 

“Baekho, I’m sleeping with you tonight in lieu of my bed getting dirtied. Please have a servant collect him later. Join me when you’re done- Oh, and do be quiet if you can.” Duke Hwang said cooly as if he hadn’t just fucked a person’s face. “Good night,” Minhyun said. He gave Baekho a peck on the cheek and a nuzzle before departing through a door in the wall much like the one in Ong’s room. Seongwoo couldn’t stop his eyes from widening in shock at the sickeningly sweet gesture. Duke Hwang was the last man he’d expected to engage in such affections.

 

Once the door clicked closed behind the Duke, Baekho heaved a loud sigh of relief. He rolled off of Seongwoo with a groan and laid on his back to catch his breath. After a few minutes of pause, he broke the silence.

 

“Sorry, d-did you wanna finish? I can be gentle if you want. I can really try to hit your spots, too. I’m sorry if I hurt you a lot...”

 

Seongwoo’s mind blanked out momentarily at the courtesy. While, generally, coming was a pleasant experience, Ong felt immensely tired of sex and all sexual activities. 

 

Still being bound made moving awkwardly for Seongwoo. Regardless, he did his best, rolling over and scooting himself close to Baekho so he could communicate with the man better.

 

“No,” Seongwoo said hoarsely. His throat hurt. Though he thought Baekho very kind for offering to finish him off, he certainly was not interested in doing the same.

 

“That’s what I thought. I, um, I didn’t hurt you too much, did I?”

 

“I'm alive.”

 

“Oh... I'm- I'm sorry.”

  
“You were following orders,” Seongwoo replied.

 

Baekho frowned, "I still feel bad..."

 

"There's not much that can be done now," Seongwoo appreciated the man's concern, but ultimately his guilt accomplished nothing. "What little courtesy you could give is appreciated. Genuinely. I wouldn't have thought you so..."

 

“Let me guess. You took one look at me and thought I was… Mean? Angry? Boorish? Bossy? Brutish? Barbaric- There’s a lot of great words with the letter ‘b’ that people like for me.”

 

Ong was too tired to attempt to wiggle his way out of the accusation.

 

"It’s okay, I get it. I’ve seen my reflection. I mean, I  _ can  _ be all of those things, but... Well, I’m sure you understand how tiring it is for people to look at you and only see one thing.”

 

“This concubine business is exhausting, that I agree with.” Seongwoo didn’t know what to make of his situation anymore. In retrospect everything sounded immensely ridiculous. He pretended to be dragged to the Duke’s room against his will. He got spit roasted between Duke Hwang and his concubine, who fucked him brutally. The Duke fucked his face to his content and calmly went to bed as if he’d just read some poetry before retiring. Now, he laid alongside the man who had been ruthlessly plowing him, having a chat.

 

“I’m guessing you want to go to bed.” Baekho said, as if reading Seongwoo’s mind.

 

“I really do.”

 

“I’ll undo your bindings. I need to call servants to have this room tidied anyways, I’ll ask someone to escort you back to your room.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Baekho sat up and jumped out of bed, searching for his breeches, “No need to thank me.” He said as he paced around in search of his clothes. “We’re all just trying to survive. Might as well help one another out, right?”

 

“Guess so.” Seongwoo replied.

 

Baekho helped him with his bindings shortly after finding clothes and called servants as promised. He wrapped a cloak around Seongwoo so he could remain modest during his walk back to the room. When the servants did arrive, two affixed another long chain to his collar, making his brief idea of escape dissipate instantly. 

 

Seongwoo gave Baekho a last goodbye and thanks before being led out. When he finally arrived at his bedchambers, he was too exhausted to care that he’d been chained up again. Though he felt desperately in need of a bath, sleep trumped all other priorities that popped up in his head. Mere moments after pulling the blankets over himself, he was pulled under into another dreamless night’s sleep.

  
  


* * *

 

“ _ Clink… Click… Clink… Click… _ ” 

 

“ _ Clunk! _ ”

 

Seongwoo woke with a start. A dull ache panged throughout his whole body at the sudden movement, and he immediately winced. The Duke had certainly assured that he would not soon forget his transgressions. He put the man on the mental list of people to avoid at all costs. It took the concubine a few seconds to blink the remnants of sleep out of his eyes before he realized that something had woken him up. Slowly, Ong turned his head, coming face to face with a familiar, mousy servant.

 

“Eck!” The mousy servant who had been responsible for binding him to bed had apparently returned. “Don’t hurt me!” He immediately threw his hands up in self defense. Seongwoo didn’t speak; he merely responded to the boy’s cowardice with the scowl of someone who had just woken up and was already ready to return to bed. 

 

“Sorry, sorry…” The servant boy said. He cleared his throat, “I-I um, well” He held up his hands to show Seongwoo what was in them. “I’m to deliver the message that, um, your previous concubinal… Privileges are r-reinstated.” 

 

“My… Concubi-what?” Seongwoo cracked his stiff neck.

 

“I don’t  _ know  _ what your privileges are, I am just telling you what I have been told. Look, see-” He shook the chains he held in front of Seongwoo’s face, “Well, um, you’re supposed to stay here, but! Once you are dismissed, you can go take a bath, eat regularly, do… Concubine… Things.”

 

“Concubine… things?” Ong asked. He had a feeling he knew what the servant was referring to, but as time went on he found the boy’s snivelling more and more entertaining. Even funnier than Ong had anticipated, the boy gasped in response. 

 

He stammered out, “Wh- W-well you know we all have our role, a-and, um. Look! Just stay put until you’re fetched by what’s his name… The scary one.”

 

“The scary one?”

 

“He gives lots of orders, and his laugh is  _ terrifying _ .”

 

Ong snorted but managed to keep a straight face as he replied, “Sungwoon?” Sungwoon could be described in many ways, but Ong had not once thought “terrifying” to be one of them.

 

When the humor subsided, realization dawned on the concubine. His hands immediately shot to his neck and shoulders, feeling around for any locks or cords or chains. All he felt was his leather collar. As the servant had said, he was untethered. Sitting up straighter, he felt lighter, both physically and mentally. Though his heart beat fast with elation, he urged himself to remain wary. He didn’t consider it out of the Duke’s character to spring some kind of a cruel trap on him.

 

“Did they tell you anything else? Wait- Who gave you this order?” Ong asked, quirking an eyebrow.

 

“H-his highness of course. Well, technically it was a herald who’d relayed the message to me from the valet of the King’s advisor- It was his royal highness.”

 

Seongwoo tilted his head in suspicion, “What of the Duke? Did he have any involvement with this order?”

 

“Oh, I really am not of authority to speak futher-” Seongwoo narrowed his eyes menacingly and the servant immediately stammered out a response, “W-well I heard that the Duke’s asked to meet with the King.”

 

“Oh?” Ong was intrigued. 

 

“Don’t tell anyone I told you, but,” The meek servant leaned in closer, whispering, “I heard that the Duke has forgiven the King- well, you, I suppose. People have been saying that the Duke needs something from his highness. Perhaps that is why he has caved. Just gossip, though. Please do not come and find me if it’s, um, not quite true.” 

 

Ong looked the young boy up and down. He looked hesitant; his fingers fidgeted with the chains he held and when he wasn’t speaking his mouth busied itself gnawing on his lower lip. Though clearly jittery, the boy looked no more or less jittery than he had during their prior meeting. His gaze remained steady on Seongwoo, and the concubine concluded that young servant was not lying.

 

“Right, well. Thank you.” Seongwoo nodded at the boy politely. “If you have no other business I suppose I shall… Walk around.” It felt strange to say, even stranger to think that something he’d once considered so simple was something he’d taken for granted.. 

 

“Of course. I’ll excuse myself then.” With a bow, the antsy servant dismissed himself, quickly striding out of the concubine’s room, probably relieved.

 

Seongwoo spent a moment in quiet reflection, thinking back on how surreal his existence had become. His eyes drifted to the ceiling above him. The deep navy backdrop dotted with silver and embedded with gems depicted the night sky. For a second, the stunning painting captivated the concubine. Even when bound to his bedroom, he’d never taken time to truly observe the handiwork of whoever had been tasked with painting the thing. A brief spell of melancholy fell over the concubine. It made him realize how much he missed the stars. The  _ real  _ stars. He traced the stylized lines of the constellations in his mind: Polaris, Cassiopeia, Andromeda…

 

The pause went as quickly as it came, and suddenly an eagerness to finally move overtook Seongwoo. He cast aside thoughts of the stars and hopped out of bed enthusiastically. More dull aches and pains made themselves known as the concubine paced to his wardrobe. After putting on a simple tunic and breeches, he made his way to the door, excitedly throwing it open. The relative freedom to roam the halls felt exhilarating, even with the knowledge that he could not leave the castle.

 

After the previous night’s activities, nothing sounded better to Seongwoo than a thorough soak in the baths; however, considering what he’d heard from the servant, Ong badly wanted to make another stop first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // starved of Ongniel? need some fluff?? why not take a load off and read my fluffy Ongniel piece for a break from suffering?
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/12894276/chapters/29456589
> 
> ^_~


	14. Possession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 14 WARNING(s): nudity, explicit language, bordering NSFW content

Seongwoo rushedly slipped into a familiar door. He’d made his best effort not to arouse any suspicion as he strode through the hallways. A few people seemed to recognize him, but none were close enough to desire a conversation (for which he was grateful).

 

The concubine sighed with relief when he entered the deserted throne room. Even though he’d been supposedly let off, he didn’t want to arouse any suspicion lest he be chained to his bed again. It occurred to Seongwoo that, for the sake of security, he ought not even be doing such a thing. He quickly struck the idea from his thoughts, deciding that knowing as much as possible was more crucial.

 

Eyes darting around, Seongwoo pried the conspicuous tile from its slot in the ground, carefully sliding it on top of the others. The sight of the worn door came as a relief to him; part of him wondered if his foray into the castle depths had been some kind of a hallucination. With a yank, he opened the door and descended the old steps.

 

Unlike his last time there, Seongwoo rushed through the tunnel. He kept one hand on the wall as a guide as he dashed down the tunnel. He prayed to himself, “Please catch them, please catch them…” as he bounded down the long passage. His steps echoed loudly, and he begged God that nobody in the castle could hear them.

 

Seongwoo halted abruptly when his hand found the fork. He took a moment to catch his breath, and the cool draft running through the passage raised goosebumps on his skin. Time was of the essence; Seongwoo didn’t know how long he would have before anyone noticed the displaced tile in the throne room. Unlike before, the risk of getting caught was much higher. Another indiscretion like the one against the Duke could actually mean his death. Still, he trod onward, and soon, slim cracks of light marked the outline of a familiar doorway. 

 

The concubine had a hunch: King Daniel would want to meet Duke Hwang as soon as possible. For a servant to have the order to unchain him so early meant that Duke Hwang had sent his message late the previous night or very, very early. Seongwoo didn’t know much about the Duke’s personal life, but it seemed likely he was a morning person; Duke Hwang came off as incredibly neat and orderly. 

 

If he had to guess, Ong would conjecture that the King had received the Duke’s message as he was dressing or during breakfast. Good relations with the Duke were imperative to keeping the Kang Kingdom afloat, especially with his territory’s location. Though Ong had no timeline for his highness’s morning, he assumed that King Daniel arranged to meet shortly after breakfast. The concubine hadn’t heard anything in his highness’s room nor had he run into the man on his way to the throne room. It seemed most logical that they were meeting in the very room that trade was being discussed in the week prior.

 

Seongwoo crept up the stairs as quietly as possible. He strained his ears in hopes that he would get some indication that his guesswork had been correct.  As he pressed his eye to the slight opening, the sight a familiar, powerful nobleman confirmed his suspicions. Pride swelled in Ong’s chest and a small smirk blossomed on his face. Despite his glee, he took little time to savor the joy and opted to listen and watch.

 

“-eneral, what are your thoughts?” Though not in perfect view, Seongwoo easily matched the clear, regal voice to Duke Hwang.

 

“We cannot provide support for all of these routes.” Ong could l just barely make out a hand gesturing to the table; it probably had a map, he thought. The voice was no doubt General Park Jihoon. Seongwoo reflexively rolled his eyes at the thought of the man. Did the King have no other Generals? He wondered.

 

“Or… In my opinion, sending large numbers will have diminishing returns. With the volatility of the public in the Kingdom proper I need to assure we have adequate reserves should anyone try to make a move here.” Ong quirked an eyebrow. It felt immensely strange to imagine General Park, young and adorable, cooly explaining tactics. He supposed it was as Yeri had told him when they danced days ago: everyone dies a lot so all the people in power are young. Though those were not her words verbatim, that was a distilled point Seongwoo had taken away. It seemed strange; no other territory he knew of had such problems keeping people in power. However, upon further thought, he realized no other governing body had attempted to conquer so many surrounding territories.

 

The General continued speaking, “However, I think we can send a few squadrons and station them here, here, and… Here.” He gestured to the map once more. Seongwoo squinted as if it would help him see, but all it accomplished was giving him a headache. “Thoughts, your highness?”

 

King Daniel leaned over the table, stroking his chin in thought, “It seems good in theory. I suppose it’s easy enough to move our squadrons should their location be unfavorable, but… I think he may need a bit more. We need to assure the bandits aren’t allowed a foothold. It’s not enough to overtake them with force, they need to be disoriented, completely discouraged. Otherwise, they’ll keep throwing bodies at our men.”

 

“Disoriented, your highness?” Another voice chimed in, someone completely out of view. Though Ong wasn’t completely positive, he attributed it to the advisor, Yoon Jisung. “Disoriented…”

 

“General Park has warrant officers under his command. I think it best we supplement the squadrons with a more specialized unit, one that can move a bit more freely. I have a feeling these attacks are more organized than they seem. I want to dismantle that organization before it becomes more of a pain.”

 

“Ah! Excellent idea, your highness.” Jihoon sounded keen on the idea. “I think in conjunction with your men and our own, your trade routes will be significantly more secure, Duke Hwang.”

 

The tall, slender figure presumed to be the Duke nodded, “Fair, fair. Thank you, your highness.” Ong could hardly see, but King Daniel seemed to give the other an amicable smile. He couldn’t help but think what a far cry the diplomatic ruler was from the man he’d last been face to face with.

 

The King spoke,“Not at all. We must all work together for the best our Kingdom, and I am… Sincerely thankful that you are willing to work with us and be a part of this. Are there any other concerns relevant to this meeting among us?” He asked. He was met with silence. “Very well. Duke Hwang, I ask that you remain here. Everyone else, you are dismissed. ” The other people in the room followed their King’s order, parting politely before leaving the room completely. A couple of bodies shifted in front of Seongwoo’s view, the two whom he had identified. An awkward silence filled the room after the other officials cleared out. After visibly fussing a bit, the King finally spoke.

 

“Thank you so, so much, Duke Hwang.”

 

A charming laugh came out of the other man, “Your highness… You can drop such formalities when we are alone. I know we’ve been a bit estranged, but we have known each other for over a decade.”

 

Daniel let out an embarrassed laugh, “Minhyun.” Seongwoo thought he detected a hint of fondness in the King’s voice; a needle of acute irritation stabbed him in the throat at the tinge of endearment. Not only was his Master fond of the cold General, but also the sadistic Duke. Something about King Daniel being so close to such venomous people vexed Seongwoo. Initially, he thought seeing a Kingdom’s ruler with such poor judgment was what galled him. Giving it more thought, he reasoned that it was just his general dislike of the Duke that clouded his vision with red in that instance.

 

“The fact that you can forgive me so easily,” King Daniel sighed, “I… I…”

 

“Your highness, please. Stop! You are the only King I have ever heard of who grovels to his subjects.”

 

“I- I am not groveling. I am apologizing, which, if I recall, was what you wanted. Anyways, you are more than a subject. As you said we’ve known each other for years.” Seongwoo rolled his eyes; Duke Hwang had seemed to conveniently forget his long friendship with the King just days before.

 

“Is this why you asked me to stay? To apologize more?” The Duke’s voice started taking on an increasingly saccharine tone. “Are you going to apologize on behalf of the rain in the sky? Or perhaps-” Ong grimaced at what he was witnessing. He realized that he was watching the Duke flirt with the King, and he got a palpable urge to throw himself down the stairs to end his life swiftly.

 

“Stop!” The King laughed, and while Seongwoo didn’t feel like laughing, he shared the sentiment. “I-” He chuckled, “I suppose I just wondered wh… How… Nevermind?”

 

“Nevermind? Surely you aren’t going to leave me with that, your highness.”

 

“You just- seem to be in a good mood today. I suppose I was curious as to why. To be frank you have been a bit…”

 

“Chilly?” Minhyun finished the other man’s sentence. “Your highness it is I who ought to apologize to you. I realize now that I had overreacted to our situation. To be honest, I’m terribly embarrassed by my behavior.” 

 

You didn’t seem embarrassed last night, Seongwoo wished he could shout.

 

“No need to harbor regrets,” The King said. “If you are happy to move forward, I am more than happy to do so as well.”

 

“Yes.” The Duke gave another regal chuckle. Seongwoo clenched his hands, fantasizing that they were around the nobleman’s throat. “Actually, that reminds me!” He clapped his hands together. “I was going to do it in court, but this is the perfect opportunity to ask you first.”

 

“Ask me? Ask me what?”

 

“Actually, I’m not asking. Consider this a part of our negotiation.” Minhyun added cheekily.

 

“Another term?” Even through the slim crack, Ong could see the King’s pouting expression.

 

“Yes. You and a few other invited friends are to come to accompany me on a hunting trip to my eastern villa!”

 

“O-oh!” The King’s face lit up with realization.

 

“Yes. Of course, the ‘requirement’ bit was in jest, but, winter is thawing. It’s a bit cold but other than that it’s the perfect time to hunt. Birds flying back, animals coming out of their hiding places, and our farms aren’t busy yet. I understand that you may have pressing matters, you are a ruler after all, but- But think of it as a… Necessary diplomatic excursion.”

 

A grin played at the edges of Daniel’s lips, “Necessary diplomatic excursion?”

 

“A very urgent one.”

 

“Well… If it’s urgent…”

 

“The security of the Kingdom depends on the success of your diplomacy, your highness.”

 

“I suppose Prince Daehwi can handle things in my absence, he is more than capable…”

 

“He’d love it!” Minhyun said, chipper, “I mean- It is up to you, your highness.”

 

“And who else shall be asked for on this… Very important diplomatic trip.”

 

“Just a loyal few. Your highness, myself, General Park, Advisor Yoon, a couple other fun nobles and maybe some court entertainers and some concubines to keep our nights eventful. A modest affair before the impending chaos of the spring and summer shackle us to our duties.”

 

“Well… If it is so important. I cannot refuse. For the Kingdom.”

 

“Yes, for the Kingdom. Of course.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Yes.” The two nodded to one another before doubling over with laughter. Ong perked up a bit at the mention of concubines. Just hearing about it made him realize how much he desired a chance to leave the confines of the castle walls.

 

“You can fill me in on details later,” King Daniel said when the two came down from their fit of laughs, “I believe we are both due in court.  Thank you, again, for your understanding and the invitation.”

 

The Duke giggled, “No, thank you, your highness. You are unbelievably generous, and in regards to your apology…” The noble leaned in and Ong pressed his face as close as possible to the crack. He could just barely make out lips moving, but the words were broken mutters, “...as… most… n…”

 

King Daniel’s expression rapidly swapped from surprise to a mask of neutrality. He nodded and gave another one of his polite smiles. Ong decided to call the expression his “King smile”: a smile his highness put on when being cordial or professional but joyful.

 

“H-heh!” King Daniel felt uncomfortable, as communicated by his peculiarly forced laugh, “I am glad you think so. Actually, I ought to check on him before I go to court, make sure the servant had him untethered properly.” A sinking feeling started to set in Seongwoo’s chest.

 

“Well, I can assure you I did not leave a mark on him, so you needn’t worry about that.”

 

“Of  _ course  _ you didn’t. Very courteous of you.” King Daniel’s response sounded strained, almost shrill. He tried to cover up his nearly tangible discomfort with more chuckling. Whether or not the Duke noticed, Ong couldn’t tell. 

 

“Well, I noticed you hadn’t and while I think he’d look lovely, I figured it was an aesthetic thing- I  _ do  _ apologize your highness, I know you are more private about these matters.”

 

“You’re quite right about that.”

 

“Don’t worry, your highness. You will get used to it.” Duke Hwang gave the other man a pat on the shoulder with the intention of reassuring him. 

 

“So I shall. Well, as I said, send a messenger with details of the travels later- Or relay them to Jisung, he can reach me with them with ease.”

 

“Of course, your highness.”

 

“Now, I must dismiss myself.”

 

“Yes, yes, as should I, your highness. I will see you in court shortly.” Duke Hwang gave a courteous bow, before gliding out the door. 

 

Silence fell upon the room. Only the King remained, frozen in place and visibly flustered. Seongwoo could not blame the man for his state of disarray. He knew just how frustrating dealing with Duke Hwang could be, though he assumed his experience was much more hands on. He observed as the King wrung his hand through his hair, heaving a sigh. 

 

The King’s expression changed once more; his brows knit together, and his bunny-like teeth dug into his plush lower lip. With crossed arms, he paced for a few moments. What are you thinking about? Ong wondered. He watched the man for what felt like eons, studied his gaze, downcast in annoyance, the lengthy strides taken by his long legs, how his hair fell onto his face with a slight wave. Seongwoo had nearly forgotten his highness’s words until the man started taking steps toward the door.

 

“I ought to check him” King Daniel had said. Ong’s eyes widened in terror as he saw his Master’s silhouette disappear from view. Little thought went into his proceeding race to his bedchambers.

 

The irony of the situation was not lost on Ong, but he took no time to think on it. He focused instead on getting back to his chambers as quickly as possible. It occurred to him that if Sungwoon had stopped by, he could already be in deep trouble. Instead of letting the thought hamper him, he used the anxiety to fuel his fast feet. 

 

Just as he had before, Seongwoo sprinted down the passage. He burst through the small door in the throne room, only giving the riskiness of such a maneuver thought after the fact. Once again, God had been on his side, and he hastily replaced the tile after slamming the door shut. He slowed down briefly to slip out the door inconspicuously and took on a brisk walking pace. 

 

Unfortunately, the people of Castle Jeon had yet to find something new to gossip about, and the mere presence of the concubine who had punched a Duke’s face had roused more attention than Seongwoo would have liked. Even so, Ong pressed on, walking as swiftly as he possibly could without looking like a madman. He strode down long corridors, turning corners and dashing up stairs with little trouble. He knew that the King would have had a shorter trip to the bedchambers than he would; he hoped that someone would have stopped his highness or slowed him down. Soon, the corridors looked increasingly familiar, he recognized the art adorning the walls and expensive statues as those that lined the halls leading to his chambers. At the very least, he felt confident that nobody would see a need to stop him, a concubine minding his own business.

 

Much to his chagrin, his confidence was ill-founded.

 

“Seongwoo.” A girl’s soft, singsong voice called out from behind him. Ong froze with dread. Only one young girl in the castle would want to talk to him.

 

“Lady Yeri,” Seongwoo said. He turned around, his panic completely masked in a veil of mannerly confidence. “What a delightful surprise.” He wondered why on earth she had wandered to a part of the castle occupied primarily by bedrooms, but it didn’t seem unlike her to roam and explore.

 

“It is I who am surprised Seongwoo.” Yeri said. She flicked her wrist, opening the fan in her hand and batted it at herself as she continued speaking, “I meet a charming concubine, have a lovely dance, see him punch a Duke and never hear from him again?” She pouted.

 

“My sincerest apologies,” Seongwoo said, with a bow. His heart had jumped into his throat and it began choking him more with each passing second. “I am quite ashamed to say this, but, as consequence of my actions, I had to be isolated. I couldn’t communicate with anyone. I am… Unbelievably sorry. It was my first time in court, and I- I was not prepared.” 

 

Yeri looked the concubine up and down for a moment with a discerning eye, “Why did you punch the Duke? What made you think it within the realm of appropriate? Do they not have social hierarchies where you’re from?” The way she rapidly fanned herself communicated irritability. Heat rose in Seongwoo’s face, stinging his cheeks and staining the tip of his ears a deep red. For the first time, he felt a tiny bit of regret for what he had done; not because of how he’d hurt the Duke, but because he’d upset Yeri, an acquaintance he’d taken quite a liking to.

 

“I do not have words to express my apologies, my lady. If you have it in your heart to forgive me, I would be incredibly grateful. If not, I understand.”

 

Yeri let Seongwoo squirm for a minute before finally replying, her lips pressed into a thin line, “You must make it up to me.”

 

“Wh- Y-yes, of course. How?”

 

The noble girl’s expression of dissatisfaction began warping, her lips curved slightly at the edges. It soon turned into a full fledged grin when she could no longer help herself, “You must take me on a walk and tell me all about it.”

 

“Wait, really? A-are you not upset? The Duke was a potential suitor, and-”

 

“I tried, but even upon introduction, the Duke ignored me all night. As far as I’m concerned he deserved a knock on the head.” Seongwoo couldn’t help but grin at her comment. “I mean, sure, my dowry is not as large as others, but I am an absolute pleasure to be around. A pleasure!”

 

“That you are, my lady,” Ong replied. “I-if I may, I would love to take you for a walk, but, I can’t right now. I’m running late.”

 

“Late? What ever have you got going on right now?” Yeri asked.

 

“I have to do… Concubine stuff.”

 

The girl gasped, a mischievous smile spreading across her lips, “Concubine stuff.” She giggled, “Well I certainly won’t let you keep the King waiting.” Giving a dainty wave and a smile, Yeri turned on her heel and departed. Seongwoo wanted to let out a sigh of relief, but he didn't have time. He began formulating excuses as to where he was, things that the King could neither confirm nor disprove. He’d given up on walking and had taken on a full-on sprint.

 

With pupils shifting about frantically, Seongwoo turned a corner, bounding toward his destination: his quarters. He threw the door open, his heart racing. On first instinct, Seongwoo analyzed his room.

 

Nothing had changed. His sheets were still slightly tousled, the housekeepers hadn’t tended to it yet. The barrier between their walls had yet to have been opened, much to his relief. There was no indication of any other person’s intrusion. Seongwoo carefully closed the door behind him, shutting it as softly as possible. When things appeared to be as they were meant to, Ong crumbled to the ground. The adrenaline that fueled his mad dash to the bedroom dissolved, leaving an exhausted mess. Seongwoo wrung his hands down his face. He tried to quiet his uneasy heartbeat to no avail.

 

“ _ Squeeeeeaaaaaaak _ !”

 

“Ah!” Seongwoo squeaked, jumping at the sound. His cheeks flushed with shame as a familiar figure darkened his doorway.

 

“Seongwoo?” A soft voice called out to him. Ong wondered if he’d been waiting around or if timing and fortune had really allowed him to arrive just minutes before the King did. Seeing King Daniel up close felt so much different than seeing him through a crack. Visions of their last encounter flashed through Ong’s mind. He shuddered as the man approached him.

 

“Master,” Seongwoo replied. He wasn’t sure what to say, whether he ought to apologize or show repentance. The King studied him as he approached. Ong couldn’t tell what the man was thinking. When he met his Master’s eyes, the other’s own pair darted away, and Seongwoo got the impression that perhaps his Master wasn’t sure what to do either. 

 

“You seem well. Are you feeling well? Not hurt?” The King’s voice sounded oddly strained. It unsettled Seongwoo.

 

“No, Master.”

 

“Good. Come here.” The King took a seat at the edge of Seongwoo’s bed, patting the spot beside him. Seongwoo’s heartbeat accelerated as he slowly shuffled over to join his Master.

 

“Seongwoo,” Daniel started, “I’m going to ask you some questions. They may seem silly, but, please, bear with me. Is that alright?”

 

“Of course, Master.” Seongwoo wondered if the King suspected anything. There was no proof of his rendezvous with the Duke the night before, but if the noble had blabbed, then it could mean his head on a stick after all. The idea made his heart sink.

 

“How old are you?” Daniel asked.

 

“I’m twenty-two years old. If I may ask why-”

 

“That’s fine. Next question, what color are your eyes?”

 

Seongwoo’s skin crawled, but he tried his best to look subservient, answering once more, “Dark brown, Master.” The King watched his concubine carefully as if the man’s eye color would reveal the secrets to life.

 

“And the color of your hair?”

 

“Also dark brown, Master.” Seongwoo tried not to let his anxiety show on his face, but the King’s behavior seriously irked him.

 

“Can you read?”

 

“Yes, Master. I do read.”

 

“Can you write?”

 

Seongwoo paused for an instant at that question, “Yes, Master. I can write as well.” He started getting an idea of what the man was doing. Establishing how a person told the truth made it easier to detect a lie.

 

“Do you know how to dance?” 

 

“I… Do know how to dance.” 

 

King Daniel smiled, but it was devoid of any sort of warmth,“ Whose concubine are you?”

 

“I belong to the King- That is, you, Master.”

 

“Very good.” Daniel nodded with satisfaction. “Now, tell me,” He moved a hand to gently cup Seongwoo’s face, the touch igniting bare skin. His gaze fixed on the other, “Did you give yourself to Duke Hwang last night?”

 

The concubine’s heart stopped, he opened his mouth to answer but shut it.  The silence in the room suffocated Seongwoo; it filled his ears and his nostrils and his throat like he’d been drowned in something viscous. Ong wasn’t sure if it was his perception or if time had truly frozen, for the King hadn’t moved one bit since he’d replied. His hand remained on the concubine’s face, anchoring it in place. Seongwoo braced himself for another hit. He shut his eyes and clenched his teeth in anticipation. When nothing happened, the concubine blinked his eyes open. Daniel finally wore a different expression, a frown.

 

“You did.” He said flatly, standing up.

 

“What?” The word left Ong’s mouth before he could think to say anything else. His eyes followed the King. His highness crossed his arms and furrowed his brow.

 

“You gave yourself to Duke Hwang last night. Admit it.”

 

Seongwoo stared at King Daniel, wide-eyed. Duke Hwang must have made explicit comments. He considered what type of response would end best for him. His last wish was to be hit or bound to his room once again. He studied the man in front of him, a murky mix of turmoil, before finally responding.

 

“Admit it.” The King insisted again, his voice increasingly venomous.

 

The concubine hesitated to meet the King’s eyes directly. Pupils shifting about, he responded, “I did.” As he met King Daniel’s gaze once more, he shrunk back. The King remained silent, and momentarily, Seongwoo worried he would be targeted once more. Time crawled by, laggard seconds ticking onward in sluggish silence.

 

“Why?” The King posed the question as more of a demand. “You despise him, do you not? So why the hell would you throw yourself at him like this?” He raised his voice, “ _ Why _ !?”

 

Seongwoo gasped, jumping back when the other raised his voice. He gave the King the most doe-eyed expression he could muster, drawing from the genuine fear that had taken root within him.

 

With a frown, the concubine replied, “Do you really have no idea? I overheard you, you know. You were going to kill me, I had to do something!” Ong clamped a hand over his mouth in a gesture of regret. He recoiled in fear of being stricken. King Daniel’s firm expression of anger fell, painted over with guilt. He ran a hand through his hair.

 

“I…” Daniel struggled to maintain eye contact with Seongwoo. His voice sounded thick, “I… Seongwoo…” He finally looked him in the face again. His eyes appeared hurt. Seongwoo felt as if every time he and the King were near one another, his Master seemed unhappy. He started to wonder if he had ever seen the man genuinely smile at him. He felt odd, having such a thought during such a tense situation, but he couldn’t help it.

 

“Seongwoo, you did not have to do anything.” Daniel finally choked out, matching his gaze with Seongwoo’s once more. “It was my responsibility to diffuse the situation, and I failed. H-however, that does not excuse you going behind my back, and- and- you-” Fury and despair tugged each tugged the man in their own direction, a volatility that caused worry to brew in Seongwoo’s chest.

 

Fury started winning, and the King raised his voice once more, “It is not your place to decide how these things are handled. You went behind my back, forged my handwriting, and acted in a way you knew would be deliberately against my wishes. You- You- And the Duke-” He wrung a hand through his hair, “I would never have asked you to do what you did. Ever. Despite what you think it is not my wish to see you subjected to such degradation.”

 

“You would just wish to kill me instead?” 

 

“You don’t know that!”

 

“I don’t know anything! You gave me no choice, no idea of what my fate is to be. The only thing I know for certain is that I have more value as a bargaining tool than anything else.” Seongwoo bit his lip immediately after responding. 

 

The King’s lips parted, ready to fire back with outrage, but nothing came out. Immense bitterness cast itself over his features; he visibly swallowed hard and clenched his fists.

 

His face softened, and he spoke again, his voice quieter than before, “I’m sorry.” The words hung in the air for a few moments. Hearing the words out of the King’s mouth caused the pit in Seongwoo’s chest to deepen. “You may not believe it, but… I am sorry.” The King regarded his concubine with pity.

 

“This is my fault,” He said. “Had I been more firm with the Duke, had I just kept you by my side…”

 

Seongwoo was taken aback by the other man’s words; his admission came as a complete surprise to the concubine. He hadn’t been sure what to expect of the King. What expectations he had had were those of the more ignorant or perhaps violent variety. Suddenly, the see-saw of ire and depression began tilting in the opposite direction, and Daniel began directing his disquiet inwardly.

 

Daniel shook his head dejectedly, “You willingly subjected yourself to this abuse because of me.” Seongwoo was at a complete loss. He had no idea if he even ought to respond or if the King was merely venting. He didn’t know if “I forgive you” was what the King wanted to hear, and he didn’t know that he could even say those words to him at all. Seongwoo had never expected his Master to be such a moody man. He started to ponder whether or not his Master had some kind of multiple personality madness.

 

Seongwoo wanted to say something, but he had no idea what. He was afraid that any words out of his mouth would incriminate him or wake the King up from whatever spell of sudden morality had overtaken him.

 

“Master?” Seongwoo said after finally gathering the courage to speak up.

 

“Yes?” Daniel seemed to snap out of his self-deprecating doldrum, and his expression returned to one that was slightly more stable. 

 

Seongwoo glanced down nervously, biting his lip,“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” He wet his eyes with tears once more, meeting the other’s gaze. Daniel’s shoulders, previously tense, fell slack with resignation.

 

“I think you have undergone punishment enough,” Daniel said. Just as the weight in the concubine’s chest began to lift, the King doubled down on it, adding, “But…” His highness approached the bed once more. He placed his hands on Seongwoo’s shoulders, and the concubine’s back hit the bed with a soft noise. Daniel swiftly took his place above the other, leaning over and straddling his concubine.

 

Manic fittingly described the way Seongwoo’s heart pattered spastically in his chest. His breath caught in his throat and he froze. He searched the King’s face for a tell, some sign of what he was about to do to him. Should I prepare myself for something worse, he thought grimly. King Daniel’s eyes were different than they’d been before, darker.

 

The King spoke and his gaze took a dallying trip down Seongwoo’s face and jawline, fixating on the crook of his concubine’s neck, “To be completely honest Seongwoo… I struggle to…” Daniel bit his lip, laboring to translate his thoughts into spoken word. The concubine hung on every word, tracing each syllable, searching for subtext, a hioncomings incoming fate. He had a difficult time doing so as his own eyes wandered, distracted by broad shoulders, protruding teeth gnawing on pink lips.

 

“I don’t know how to cope with you.” He said finally. Seongwoo couldn’t help but give him an expression of puzzlement in response. 

 

Daniel laughed awkwardly, “That sounds strange doesn’t it. I just- I…” Unexpectedly, he leaned in closely until his breath tickled the crook of Seongwoo’s neck. 

 

The concubine froze again. He shuddered. Neither his body nor mind could properly process the man’s proximity to him. A rush of blazing heat ripped through him yet he felt goosebumps prick his skin, causing him to shiver. Segments of thought jumbled together, but they didn’t succeed in translating to any kind of cohesion. 

 

Daniel pressed a kiss so soft at Seongwoo’s jawline that the concubine scarcely felt it. When he did fully register it, the searing spot radiated tingling sensations, and his chest bubbled with an odd, abhorrible feeling. The King’s voice cut through the concubine’s thoughts.

 

“To be honest, I’m really possessive.” 

 

Daniel whispered before sinking his teeth into the tender spot beneath Seongwoo’s ears. Seongwoo gasped, but it seemed to catch in his throat. Throbbing pain began to gradually subside as plush lips sucked at the spot. 

 

Ong bit his lip to keep the little noises threatening to leave his throat at bay. Words echoed in his mind futilely, reassurances, urging him to shove aside any compromising intrusions. He decided: he was more wound up from the previous night than he’d thought; he clenched and unclenched the sheets beneath him with white knuckles.

 

Daniel looped an arm around Seongwoo’s waist, pulling his body closer. Satisfied with the first mark left, the King trailed a few kisses downward before biting into pale flesh once more. Seongwoo inhaled sharply through clenched teeth, and a swarm of sensations pooled in his chest, migrating to his stomach. His eyes fluttered shut as Daniel’s tongue swirled around the aching spot on his neck.

 

His highness whispered, “This,” He placed a delicate kiss on the side of Seongwoo’s neck, “Is so everyone knows,” His lips travelled further down, “That you’re mine.” He punctuated the thought by biting down just above Seongwoo’s collarbone. The instant of pain was quickly gratified with gentle kisses and sucking. Heat surged through the concubine’s quaking body. 

 

Daniel leaned back to inspect his handiwork; Seongwoo inspected him in turn to the best of his ability. He took the opportunity of pause to catch the breath he hadn’t quite realized he’d lost. Ong thought the man had surely made his point, but when his hazed vision focused, he saw Daniel more dishevelled than before. His hair had gotten slightly tousled and he seemed in need of steadying his breathing as well. 

 

The King’s gaze regarded the concubine with a new depth in his gaze; something carnal brewed beneath the typically lighthearted man’s pupils. It wasn’t an expression Seongwoo was familiar with, and it made the swill of feeling stewing inside of him squirm. Seongwoo thought he was done, that his sentence had been served, but Daniel wordlessly decided otherwise. 

 

His highness dove down aggressively. His teeth caught the skin on the other side, no doubt with the intention of matching the opposite side’s inflictions. It had happened so swiftly that Seongwoo hadn’t had time to fortify himself, and much to his chagrin, he let out a whine when the other man bit down again. The concubine immediately shot a free hand to his mouth, no longer trusting his lips to remain sealed. His toes curled as Daniel rushedly marked his neck and shoulders, biting and sucking, biting and sucking. 

 

Seongwoo’s mind had gone blank; he could only register one thing, one person: Daniel. His arms held him firmly in place, his mouth, fixed on the concubine’s skin, his body, warm, flush to Seongwoo’s. 

 

Daniel’s ministrations grew increasingly mercurial with each new mark made. Seongwoo was a drug and he’d become intoxicated, uncharacteristically greedy. His lips dipped beneath the other’s collarbone, tugging the concubine’s tunic down so he could make his mark on the other’s chest. Then another.

 

The repeated feeling of pain followed by soothing kisses and licks started becoming familiar to the concubine. He began anticipating it: feeling Daniel’s lips graze his skin, the sharp pain of teeth plunging in, the moments of tension, searing pain, then a release, an ecstatic rush as thick lips kissed and soothed the fresh wound. Unconsciously, he’d began leaning into it, arching his back; though, his hand still remained firmly closed over his mouth, the remnant of pride and dignity he maintained. When a familiar warmth began pooling in the concubine’s gut, he tried his best to stamp out the embers threatening to take flame. For an instant, he thought he could detect a similar condition in the man on top of him.

 

Suddenly, King Daniel stopped completely.

 

He sat up, beholding what he had done with his mouth ajar in remorse. Seongwoo met his Master’s gaze, a twinge of humiliation rushing through his body, staining the tips of his ears and cheeks red. Daniel looked more like his typical self than he had in days; his pupils skirted around anxiously. 

 

Unable to even speak to the other while retaining eye contact, he simply said, “I-I’m sorry. I got carried away.” He hurriedly got off of the bed,“I… I’m sorry. Y-you can go on as you, um, were.” His face looked like rouge, tinted red with guilt, embarrassment, or both (Seongwoo wasn’t quite sure). He took off without another word, rushedly closing the partition between their rooms with a loud slam.

 

Seongwoo laid still for a few minutes, trying not to think about what had just occurred. He willed his mind to think anything other than the obvious with little success. Given the pressure the that endured in his abdomen, he decided the proper solution would be a bath. 

 

A very, very cold one.

 

Suddenly, a genuine thought took traction in Seongwoo’s mind at the thought of a bath: he wanted to let Sungwoon know he was alive.

 

* * *

 

Warmth radiated from the entrance to the bath’s hall, and humidity surrounded him as Seongwoo crossed the threshold. Muffled echoes of chatter leaked through door, and the faint smell of peppermint tickled his nostrils. 

 

Whirring thoughts still buzzed about in his head; recollections of the previous night, confusions regarding his most recent encounter with the King. Seongwoo had no idea how the others would receive him, and he wasn’t keen to find out. Scrutinizing looks tormented him enough when he was clothed. Regardless, he trudged forward, hoping Sungwoon had not quite departed. At the very least, he thought the man deserved to know that their joint efforts (well, mostly his) weren’t for naught.

 

Seongwoo opened the second door timidly, peeking his head through to see if any familiar faces were present. Silence suddenly fell across the baths. He caught a few heads turning toward the entrance in his peripheral vision; they were probably gawking. The feeling of stares heavily weighed on the concubine. Despite that, the concubine decided to stride forward, holding his head up high. He wasn’t sure whether his peers would admire him for his guts or despise his deplorable behavior; had he managed to make enemies by proxy, he didn’t wish to show them his vulnerable side.

 

It felt like months ago that Ong had been mortified at public nudity, but after throwing himself at the lecherous Duke, such a trifle no longer phased him. He unceremoniously shed the tunic and breeches he’d been wearing as he glanced around the room in search of Sungwoon. He managed to spot the petite man with ease. He sat at the edge of the pool, head leaned back in relaxation as his feet swished aimlessly in the warm water.

 

Ong approached the pool, unable to ignore the sideways glances of the others present. Against his own best interest, he snuck a glance beside him. Concubines lounged about, draped across stone benches and the warm tile of the floor. Some completely ignored him. Many tried not to openly stare, their pupils resting on him for brief seconds before fleeing. A couple of familiar faces gawked at him, erupting in whispers upon seeing him. Gaze shifting to the other size, Seongwoo saw more shifty pupils, and even a couple of dirty looks. 

 

The King’s concubine returned his gaze forward and lowered himself into the pool in front of him. He waded over to where Sungwoon was (pointedly avoiding direct eye contact with the other’s naked body) and roused him from his daze with a tap on the ankle. The smaller man jumped slightly, mouth dropping open at the sight of Seongwoo.

 

“Wh- I- You’re here? You’re here- and. What in the hell-” Sungwoon’s mouth formed an ‘O’ shape as he took in the sight of the many red splotches staining Ong’s skin, “Seongwoo. A-are you alright?” He asked, shocked. Ong wanted to say “no”, but the worry on his mentor’s face made him feel inclined to maintain his strong facade.

 

“I’m alive.” Seongwoo shrugged, as if the past twenty four hours hadn’t been immensely taxing on him both mentally and physically. “I have you to thank for that.”

 

“At what cost…?” Sungwoon muttered; he frowned as he continued, “Y-you’re not injured further are you? Were you hurt?” 

 

Yes, Seongwoo thought, yes, yes, yes. To him, existence had been synonymous with pain since General Park Jihoon had snatched him up. Yet, thinking back on his mistreatments, Seongwoo realized the physical pains he’d endured paled in comparison to the immense mental toll he’d taken. 

 

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Seongwoo replied coolly, he even gave Sungwoon a grin. 

 

“W-well… Good.” The older man opted not to press the point further. “I think it best we leave all of this behind us and never speak of it again. The initial explosion of gossip has blown over, but I’m sure your release from captivity will ignite some new whispers… I was thorough in vetting the few helpers I employed, they oughtn’t say anything.”

 

“Thank you,” Ong said. 

 

He wished he could give the man more than a thanks; in his opinion, Sungwoon deserved a throne of his own. He felt strangely guilty that the man fussed over him. He’d put himself at  great risk and asked for nothing in return; Ong didn’t want to give the older man any more reason to worry. Sungwoon didn’t seem to completely believe Seongwoo, but he stopped pressing him. 

 

A sudden yank on the ankle caused Ong to jump with panic, splashing water loudly as he rushed to get out of the pool. The tall, slim figure that emerged from the pool shortly after doubled over with laughter. The young man shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. Seongwoo, wide eyed and still reeling from the surprise, took a moment before he recognized the boy in front of him.

 

“Guanlin, what the hell?!” Ong asked, kicking at the surface of the pool to splash the other.

 

Guanlin snorted as he shielded his face, “You should have seen yourself. Here I thought you were fearless. Especially after you went after a-” he whispered, “-a Duke.” The grin on the chick’s face made him appear more impressed than anything.

 

“You surprised me! And- and don’t bring court matters into the bath. It’s improper.” Seongwoo crossed his arms, taking a proper seat next to Sungwoon. Ong was prepared to close the book on the entire Duke Hwang situation. As a matter of fact, he would have greatly liked to close the book on Duke Hwang himself. Never seeing the man again in his life would have been too soon for Ong.

 

“No fair,” Guanlin frowned, “Everyone seems to know the great secret of you punching the Duke, but I was too distracted and missed it. You return to the baths after days covered in welts and you have nothing to say?”

 

“Precisely.” Ong said. 

 

“I didn’t even get to see it,” The chick said again, disappointment apparent in his tone. “It sounded really funny too. Wait-” He leaned, lowering his voice again, “Why did you do it? There’s a few rumors, but I’m curious-”

 

“Guanlin, we are not talking about this. I… I’ll stop helping you with your writing if you don't’ stop talking about this.” Seongwoo cut him off, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

The younger boy conceded with a pout, “Fine. I hope you said sorry, though. It’s not nice to punch someone in the face.  _ Hilarious _ , but not nice.” Seongwoo fought the desire to shake the child violently, but he had a feeling that Guanlin knew very little. It wasn’t as if Sungwoon had been keen to tell the boy explicit details of Ong’s punishment. That left General Park and other uninvolved parties as Guanlin’s source of information. Guanlin’s attitude made Seongwoo wonder just how wide the halo of shelter General Park cast around his concubine was. It wouldn’t have shocked Ong to learn that Guanlin truly knew nothing of the Duke’s advances or Seongwoo’s motivations.

 

Even though the chick had asked rather intrusive questions, Ong could not bring himself to be angry at the younger boy. His flare of anger merely fizzled out, and he groaned. He gave Sungwoon a sideward glance, silently urging him to pacify the chick.

 

Guanlin didn’t miss a beat, pupils rapidly darting to the advisor when he saw Ong’s silent communication,“Wh- Why are you looking at him? Wait- Sungwoon? You told me you didn’t know what happened.”

 

“I- Me? No. I don’t.”

 

Guanlin glared at the two, narrowing his eyes, “You’re an awful liar.” He crossed his arms, “You know, don’t you? Does everybody know what happened but me?”

 

“Well, not  _ everyone _ .” Sungwoon responded, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from Seongwoo.

 

The young concubine looked galled, “I understand what this is. You two think I’m too young to know what’s happening. You’re trying to protect my innocence just like Master does.” That was precisely what Ong and Sungwoon were doing, but they had no intentions of telling Guanlin that. “Why can’t anyone look at me like an equal instead of some- some child?!” 

 

“No! No, that’s- that’s not it at all-” Sungwoon stuttered in a lackluster attempt to satiate the youngest.

 

“Sungwoon, it’s okay.” Ong cut him off. The older man started to protest, but Seongwoo ignored him and kept speaking. “Guanlin, come here.” He beckoned the chick closer. Raising an eyebrow, the youngest among them obliged.

 

Seongwoo lowered his voice, “You have to promise me that you won’t tell a soul.” Guanlin nodded earnestly, and Ong continued. He could feel Sungwoon stare daggers at him. 

 

“I promise.” Guanlin’s lips tipped at the edges. Ong made a show of looking the other up and down, assessing his trustworthiness. When he felt he’d done a sufficient job, he carried on.

 

“The truth is… Incredibly embarrassing, actually.” Seongwoo said. “I, um… It wounds me to even say this, but- I had consumed rather liberally that night. The Duke had approached me for polite conversation and, I, well- I misheard some of his words.”

 

“Oh? What did he say?”

 

“The words he said were quite complimentary, but I’d misinterpreted them as rude. In my muddled state, I lashed out violently. It’s… Shameful, really. I don’t want to talk about it because I’m incredibly embarrassed. People can say what they want, I like to act as if I was in the right, but… If they knew how drunk I was, I’d just die.” Seongwoo visibly sulked, his eyes darting away from the others. “Please, don’t think less of me…” Guanlin snorted and shook with badly suppressed laughter. Sungwoon decided to play into the story, chuckling himself.

 

“Seongwoo,” The chick whispered, “You should really know your limits.” He snickered. 

 

“Hush! I’m serious. I can’t risk staining Master’s reputation further.”

 

Guanlin tilted his head suspiciously, “Please, take no offense, but… I didn’t think you the type to fret for the King’s sake. Could you finally be warming up to him? He truly seems quite nice-”

 

“Wh- No. No, no, no, no.  _ No _ .” Genuine agitation covered Seongwoo’s face. “I didn’t disappear by choice, you know. If I spite my Master more... Well, to put it plainly, I prefer not to endure any more of his punishment.” 

 

The chick gasped, “But King Daniel seems so nice.”

 

Seongwoo lowered his voice more, leaning in, “You would be surprised at his temper.” The statement wasn’t completely out of the realm of truth.

 

Guanlin’s amused expression faltered and he nodded, “I’m sorry, Seongwoo. I forget, not all are as fortunate as I am…” Seongwoo felt bad dragging the typically jovial boy into his own issues.

 

“As I told Sungwoon, it’s nothing I can’t handle,” Ong reassured him. “As an apology, please, never speak of this again.” Guanlin nodded in agreement, much to Ong’s relief. The chick tried to lighten the mood, harassing his senior for a few more minutes before departing. Sungwoon departed soon after, not wanting to dally when he had a list of tasks ahead of him for the day.

 

As the minutes ticked on, the number of people in the bath dwindled. Seongwoo happily soaked alone. Even with a few sets of judgemental eyes on him, Ong felt that the baths provided as sort of a respite for him. There were no nobles, no expectations. Just people of the same status as him, bathing, lounging, and perhaps even escaping from their own masters.

 

He slowly slid down, closing his eyes as he sunk beneath the surface of the pool. For a few blissful moments, he remained under, surrounded by warmth, water dulling any surrounding noise into a low drone. A sense of calm washed over him. He found a primal comfort in being submerged in water, surrounded by it. He knew he’d run out of breath soon; he’d have to get out, dry off, and resume his life as the King’s concubine. He had no idea what fate held for him beyond the safety of the pool.

 

He only knew that he had to move forward.


	15. The Art of the Bow & Abrasion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 15 WARNING(s): explicit language

Rain pattered against the windows in the study Seongwoo lounged in. It was one room among the many that he’d learned he had the right to use at his leisure, and he’d taken a liking to it. The cozy space had much less luxurious decor than some of the other rooms in the castle, but it had all of the necessities: a few shelves of books, a small writing desk, and a large velvet armchair. The warm wood tones along with the plush velvets and worn oriental rug made the entire space wrap around whoever occupied it, much like a blanket would. 

 

A few days had passed since the concubine had been freed, and he’d begun carving out a sort of routine for himself. He woke up in the morning and went to the baths. After ablutions he would go back to his room. He wasn’t sure exactly when it had been arranged, but by the time he returned to his room, food had been set out for him: cheeses, cured meats, bread and some fruit. After eating his fill, he’d wander a bit, trace the lines of the corridors over and over in his mind. When he felt content with his walk around, he’d find one of the reading rooms, a library or study. Occasionally he’d manage to strike up a conversation with one of the few familiar faces in the castle. Otherwise, he would read, help Guanlin with his writing, or shadow Sungwoon as he ran castle errands. 

 

Though he was technically allowed to accompany his Master at court, he avoided it (along with anything else involving the courtiers or the King). His highness hadn’t bothered him since his previous territorial episode, and Ong appreciated it massively. His past few days had been a dream compared to the first week he’d spent there. Seongwoo didn’t terribly mind his time in the castle. He couldn’t say he was happy by any means. He hadn’t deluded himself to the level Guanlin had, but he felt relatively less miserable. The prospect of carrying on existence as a concubine for the near future was far from appealing, but it was an immense improvement upon carrying on as a concubine  _ and  _ being chained to the bed. Little blessings, he told himself.

 

He counted Castle Jeon’s extensive inventory of books as another one of the small blessings he’d been given. In the past few days he’d already burned through three plays, a poem anthology, and an astronomy book. Out of boredom, he’d picked a book at random and had managed to get a third of the way through a book about gardening before the sound of steps roused his attention.

 

Seongwoo raised his eyebrows in surprise, his gaze falling on the open door of the study. He’d only found it the day prior, but it was tucked away an a rather obscure part of the west wing. He thought for certain its relatively unimpressive size and furnishings would make it rather unappealing to most people in the castle.

 

“O-oh,” A slender silhouette darkened the doorway. It took Ong a few seconds to match a name to the young fellow, but he knew the face almost immediately. Nobody in the castle had an appearance quite like Samuel’s. 

 

The younger boy gave a respectful nod, “I apologize, have I interrupted your reading? Seeing someone else here is quite a surprise.”

 

Seongwoo closed his book, giving the boy a polite smile as he shook his head, “Oh, you’re alright. I’ve done a lot of reading recently. I can stand to take a break. It’s no wonder concubines are such good conversationalists. When you’ve got nothing to do but read, I imagine you learn all sorts of interesting little things.”

 

Samuel chuckled, leaning against the doorframe, “You catch on quick.”

 

“Anyways, it’s I who should be apologizing,” Ong said, “It appears I’ve monopolized your reading corner.”

 

“Oh? How do you figure.”

 

“Well, you seemed rather shocked to see anyone else here. I would be too. This spot’s nestled away quite far from all the glitz and glamour. Despite that the seat seems well worn and a few books were left on the table. You probably nest here regularly.”

 

“You figured all that just from looking around? How clever.” Samuel looked pleased.

 

“Not really, but, thank you.” Seongwoo said.

 

“If you say so, Seongwoo.” Samuel shrugged. “I suppose I ought to find another nest for now. This one’s a bit small for more than one person.”

 

“Wh- Oh, no, please. Stay. To be honest I’ve tired of reading. My eyes are going to fall out of my skull if I read another word about-” Ong glanced at the cover of the book, “-’A Monestary’s Guide to Starting A Garden’. Those monks, ever the innovators, aren’t they?”

 

Samuel laughed, “No wonder you’ve tired of reading! If gardening bores you, why read a book about it.”

 

The older man shrugged, “I don’t know. Knowledge? I picked it at random. You never know when gardening can come in handy.”

 

Samuel grinned, striding into the quaint room. He walked his fingers across a row of book spines on one of the shelves. When they finally settled on one, he pulled it out swiftly and passed it to Seongwoo.

 

“Here,” He said, “You ought to read up on this.”

  
Seongwoo eyed the cover, “The Art of the Bow.” He said aloud. Thumbing through the tome, he saw illustrations of various bows and quivers full of arrows. A few of the lines of text described the advantages of different arrowheads and how to string a bow properly. “Am I to be armed at some point in the near future?” Ong laughed.

 

“No, silly! Members of court are going on a hunting trip to the Duke’s villa soon. If you’re to accompany the King, you ought to know some basics. Even if you aren’t given a weapon, you may be asked to lend a helping hand.” Ong narrowed his eyes. It was the first time he’d heard of such a thing. His Master was leaving, and someone else had known before him; the fact bothered him more than he thought it should.

 

“Right, I, um. I wasn’t aware, actually. I imagine I wouldn’t make very good company on such a trip.” Seongwoo shrugged, “I’m sure he’ll have a splendid time without me.”

 

The younger boy pulled another book from one of the shelves. He plopped down onto the floor and opened it, eyeing the pages idly, “Forgive me if I’m speaking a bit candidly, but… I believe you diminish yourself. His highness seems quite fond of you, I am sure he would love your company.” Seongwoo pursed his lips. He wasn’t sure exactly how to react to the compliment. 

 

“What makes you say that?” Ong pried. 

 

“Well,” Samuel said, “You’re not dead.” Seongwoo couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous assertion that being alive meant his Master favored him specially. 

 

“Is not killing one another how people show fondness here? Do people botch murder attempts to propose marriage, then?” The joke was a bit dark, but the older man didn’t hesitate to indulge himself. He felt grateful when the younger boy laughed alongside him. When he came down from laughter, Ong spoke again, “As flattered as I am that my Master is, apparently, fond of me… I think I will opt to stay and try to acclimate myself to the castle more. I am sure he will be more than okay without me.”

 

“If not for his highness, why not for yourself then? My Master says it’s quite fun,” Samuel remarked, turning the page of his book. “He mentioned it would be a wonderful opportunity to see more of the Kingdom for someone new.”

 

Seongwoo eyed the younger boy. Though only a tangential thought, he couldn’t help but notice how much more mature Samuel seemed than Guanlin. They were about the same age, yet Samuel had some kind of an enigmatic air about him; his mysterious calmness made him appear much older.

 

“Have you ever gone?” Seongwoo asked.

 

Samuel nodded, “Once. It was wonderful! Of course, the weather was much better when I’d, but the villa’s in a pretty, remote area. There were so many trees around, I thought someone could get lost there easily! I wanted to play hide and seek, but Master didn’t agree to it.” He chuckled.

 

“That does sound pleasant… You’re certainly being persuasive. Do you gain something if I go with my Master?” Ong joked.

 

Samuel chuckled,“You just  _ have  _ to go. Keep his highness company- or don’t! You wanted to go outside anyways, right?” He suddenly looked up and glanced out the window. “Oh- looks like the rain’s cleared up.”

 

Seongwoo’s gaze followed the other’s. Just as he’d said, the gray clouds had parted. Sunlight filtered through the hazy remnants of cloud coverage, making the raindrops glisten like tiny gems. Soon the sun’s light would shine down fiercely every day, warming the Earth and coaxing her greenery out from its slumber.

 

“I will take your case under advisement.” Ong said, finally tearing his gaze away from outside. He stood up and stretched. “The chair is all yours.” The concubine decided it was time to move onto some other pastime.  

 

He bid a polite farewell to his fellow concubine before walking off with the book he’d been given. Though he couldn’t take it outside, he knew he could find a comfortable nook in one of the other lounge areas. A twinge of annoyance set in as the thought of going outside and travelling took root in his mind. 

 

He considered trying to find Eunji and company; the maids always seemed to bring up the mood; however, he opted not to. His legs automatically routed him back toward his quarters.

 

As he thoughtlessly walked onward, something gnawed at the back of his head.

 

* * *

 

‘The Art of the Bow,’ Ong read and reread the gold lettering on the dark green cover of the book. Eventually, he found himself in front of his quarters once more, and he let himself in. He threw the book on his bed and paced toward his window.

  
Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks.

  
Something felt different.

 

The concubine blinked, observing his surroundings. His bed had been made (typical and to be expected of the housemaids). His window appeared the same save for the trails of water dripping down it. His wardrobe remained undisturbed and nothing appeared to have shifted atop his bedside table. The fireplace across from his bed had already been put out, as had the candles that sat in the holder next to his bed. The door leading to his highness’s quarters remained open and-

 

The door leading to highness’s quarters stood open.

 

The concubine’s eyes widened. He listened out for any servants, thinking perhaps they needed the door open for cleaning purposes. However, he heard nothing. He stared at the partition for a long time, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, he took matters into his own hands.

 

Seongwoo crept slowly to the opening between their rooms. Had the King left it open on purpose? He wondered. It occurred to the concubine that he’d never gotten a good look at the King’s room in daylight. It looked much more inviting, and he could more clearly see the depth of the stunning murals that spanned his ceiling, dipping down into his walls. One of the King’s cats lazed about in the spot where the sun shone most brightly through the windows.

 

The concubine wasn’t sure if the door being open was a fluke or had been intended. With how wide it had been opened, he assumed it must have been intended. Or, at least, he hoped. He didn’t know whether or not he was allowed in his Master’s room without permission, but a sudden itch tormented him to his very core:

  
He needed to pet that cat.

 

Seongwoo had found little reason to feel joy in the stony walls of Castle Jeon. The mere thought of such a simple joy as petting a cat enticed him immensely. He thought that, after all of the hardship he had faced, the least he could do for relief was indulge in such a simple thing. He hadn’t heard the King; the man was probably busy in court or on his way to dinner. The more Ong thought about it, the more appealing the thought became. He wondered if his highness’s cats liked being pet or preferred being left alone. Did they meow softly or did they have raspy, old sounding yowls? Any distraction from reality appealed to Seongwoo, and one involving cute creatures did so doubly.

 

With little care, the concubine meandered into the King’s room, his eyes on one thing. It didn’t take long for him to close the distance, and he swiftly dropped to his knees, coming face to face with the orange cat.

 

“Hi,” Seongwoo whispered, unable to stop a wide smile from taking over his face. He extended his hand out to let the creature sniff him, allowing it familiarity. The orange cat seemed unmoved. The concubine figured it was likely used to people between his highness and servants coming in and out. The little thing blinked at him, and Seongwoo swore he felt the ice that had enclosed his heart melt.

 

“You are the most wonderful thing to grace this castle, little one,” Seongwoo cooed, reaching out to gently pet the cat. The ginger feline began purring contentedly and closed its eyes, clearly pleased with the concubine’s attention. 

 

Seongwoo nearly teared up at the perfection of the moment. Though his life had become tumultuous and uncertain, at the very least he could cherish the singular, simple pleasure that was petting a cat. Seconds passed by and turned into moments, then minutes. Ong laid down on the ground to be more level with the cute creature, and, to his elation, the second one had come out from hiding. When the calico colored one began rubbing up on Seongwoo, the concubine considered that heaven probably had cats in it.

 

He sighed in satisfaction with his brief content, and muttered, “I hope Master treats you better than he treats me, little one.” He scratched behind the orange one’s ears.

 

“Her name is Rooney, actually.” A familiar voice cropped up seemingly out of nowhere. Immediately, Seongwoo’s small heaven went up in flames. In an instant, it disintegrated.

  
With horror in his wide eyes, Seongwoo slowly turned his head in the direction of the voice. His heart dropped. Against a wall, in a corner that Ong hadn’t looked in, stood his Master. King Daniel wore a grin on his face and little else. Apparently, he had been in the middle of changing clothing, because while he wore breeches and hose, his torso was still bare.

 

Seongwoo never asked God for much, but in that moment, he prayed that God would smite him immediately.

 

When the vengeful deity from the Old Testament failed to come through on the concubine’s request, a pit began to form in his stomach. Embarrassment and fear made his face sting, and it flushed a deep red. His mouth felt dry as he uttered out a response.

 

“I-I I am sorry your highness, I was unsure as to wh-whether or not I am allowed, and I in-intruded,” The concubine’s pupils quivered, unable to focus on one part of the man across the room. They moved from his eyes to his wide grin to his abdominals and shoulders then back. 

 

“No need to worry,” King Daniel said, sauntering toward his concubine. “I left it open because I wanted you to come in. Well, to be more clear, I want you to feel comfortable. Open, I suppose. You are not by any means required to come in, but you are allowed. I thought… If we are to coexist in any semblance of peace, we ought to start there.” 

 

Seongwoo could hardly process the words coming out of his Master’s mouth when he so indecently flaunted himself. Regardless, he swallowed the lump of sentiment that he’d been fed to digest it. He wondered what on God’s earth had prompted his Master’s sudden pursuit of “coexistence” as he’d put it. The way he called it a “start” made it sound like an olive branch of sorts, like he wanted to make peace. Did he feel guilty for so assertively marking his concubine as territory? Did he want Seongwoo to start viewing him in a less hostile light? If so, why did he care? After all, as far as Ong knew, it really didn’t matter what  _ his  _ perceptions were. His highness would get little benefit from gaining the favor of a concubine. The King was allowed to do what he wanted, regardless of how “open” or “comfortable” his concubine felt about it. 

 

“I see.” Seongwoo said, a complete lie. “I- Um, you heard all of that, then, didn’t you?” He referred to his little conversation with the Rooney. Even more blood rushed to his face.

 

Daniel’s smile faltered briefly, and he responded, “You were rather quiet, I only heard you call my Rooney little one. I feel a bit bad interrupting, you two were clearly having a very good talk.”

 

Ong eyed his Master dubiously. It seemed too miraculously convenient for him to have not heard what the concubine had said about him. If Daniel had heard Seongwoo’s remark, he didn’t seem to care. The concubine opted to go along with his highness’s words.

 

“She’s a great conversationalist,” Seongwoo said. “Though, if I may ask… Why Rooney? Of all names it’s quite… unique.”

 

“I thought she was a boy.” King Daniel scrunched his nose in embarrassment.

 

Ong snorted despite himself, despite everything. He had absolutely no problem picturing young Kang Daniel, declaring a cat a boy and giving it a man’s name, completely ignorant of biology. Seongwoo laughed heartily for a few moments.

 

In the midst of laughter, his eyes found the King’s, and reality set in once again. Initially, he’d hoped his laughter hadn’t insulted the man he called Master. On the contrary, his highness wore yet another unfamiliar look in his eyes. For the first time since being presented to the man as property, Seongwoo saw it radiating from the other’s gaze:

 

Warmth.

 

Seongwoo’s eyes darted away. Though he’d half-jokingly lamented his treatment at the hands of the king, the last thing he wanted was to be doted upon like one of his cats. The concubine stood up to depart before he could lend the swill of nerves stirring about in his chest any consideration.

 

“I ought to leave you and let you dress,” The concubine said as he stood up.

 

“You’re free to come and go as you wish,” Daniel shrugged.

 

“Thank you, Master. Since that is the case, I shall excuse myself.”

 

“Very well,” The King said. He walked over to where Rooney still laid, petting the cat idly. “Oh, one more thing, before you go. I have a small task for you.”

 

“A-a task?” Seongwoo perked up. He wondered if he would start being given duties like Sungwoon. The thought of gaining some sort of regard within the castle was incredibly appealing.

 

“Yes. I’ll be gone for a short time in a few days. Just a quick hunting trip at Duke Hwang’s villa. If you would be so kind…” Daniel held up Rooney, “Please assure that my cats do not lack for love in my absence.” His highness punctuated the thought by kissing his pet on the head. While not as prestigious as Seongwoo would have liked, he felt grateful that he hadn’t been asked something tedious or even perverse. Suddenly, Ong remembered Samuel’s words. 

 

“A-actually, Master. I wanted to ask…” The concubine cast his gaze down in a gesture of deference. “If you would be so kind as to extend me the privilege… I would be honored to accompany you during your travels. M-may I accompany you, Master?”

 

King Daniel put his cat down, standing up straight, “I cannot allow that.”

 

“Wh- M-may I ask why?” Seongwoo blinked surprisedly. He tried to keep his discontent under control; the man had just preached about openness and mutual comfort.

 

King Daniel quirked an eyebrow, “May I ask why you are so eager to go? It was my understanding that you disliked Duke Hwang. At least, that is typically what punching someone implies.”

 

“I, um, it’s not about the Duke.” Seongwoo’s pupils flitted about. It annoyed him to no end that his Master insisted on continuing the conversation before putting on a shirt.

 

“Did someone give you the idea that you would be hunting? I suppose Sungwoon is allowed on occasion, but you are very much prohibited from handling weapons.”

 

“It’s not about the hunting, it’s just… I haven’t been outside in ages.” Seongwoo frowned.

 

The King sighed, “Seongwoo, I… To speak bluntly, what makes me hesitate more than anything else is that I am concerned for your wellbeing. It’s not incredibly safe to travel with bandits everywhere, and while Duke Hwang politely invited you, I think it best you two remain… Isolated from one another.”

 

“That’s what it’s really about, isn’t it?” The concubine muttered to himself.

 

Daniel furrowed his brows, “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” He stepped closer to Seongwoo. The concubine swallowed hard, regretting his fat mouth. The fact that his highness had yet to cover himself made the incoming altercation all the more regretful for Ong.

 

“I apologize, Master. I wasn’t aware you had a hearing problem.” Something about pressing the man’s button seemed so appealing in that moment. Despite knowing it was the exact opposite of what he ought to be doing, he felt prickly and had to vent somehow.

 

King Daniel stepped forward once more, and Seongwoo stepped back. The King stepped forward again, and the concubine back. When Daniel moved towards Seongwoo once more, the concubine moved to step back, only to be met with an ornately painted wall. The concubine cussed internally, and his Master closed the gap, resting one of his hands on the wall next to his ward’s face. 

 

Despite his aggressive posturing, the King kept a stable, polite tone, “I would very much appreciate if you would repeat yourself.” He said. His eyes delved into Seongwoo’s soul, and the concubine couldn’t help but squirm.

 

“I said… That- that’s what it’s really about…”

 

“What what’s really about?”

 

Seongwoo tried to avert his gaze slightly, but the King was so close it was nearly impossible to focus on anything else. His eyes would fall on his shoulder or collarbone or lips or cheeks. 

 

When he finally settled his gaze on the man’s forehead, he continued,“Perhaps I can communicate it better if I pose it as a question. Master, is your concern for me on this trip regarding my safety? Or is it because of my… Associations with the Duke? Are you afraid that he will snatch me away? After all he did get to me before you did. I went to him willingly, too. Are you jealous?” Daniel pursed his lips. He looked displeased, but not intensely angry.

 

When his highness finally responded, he did so with a tiny grin playing at his lips, “Seongwoo…” His voice sounded tickled. Suddenly seemed much too amused for the concubine’s liking.

 

Daniel’s grin spread into a full on smirk,“Seongwoo are you trying to provoke me?” He laughed. Seongwoo felt heat sting his ears and cheeks. He wasn’t sure exactly what his highness found so funny, and he wasn’t keen to find out. All he knew in that instant was that he hated it. 

 

His highness continued, “I can’t think of any other reason you would behave this way.” He moved the hand that wasn’t planted on the wall to cup the concubine’s face. The sudden gesture sucked the wind out of the concubine’s lungs. “Why do you wish to provoke me like this?” Daniel asked.

 

Seongwoo answered as calmly as he could, “I thoughtlessly asked a question, Master. I- I apologize for any confusion-”

 

“No, no, no.” Daniel cut him off with a singsong tone, “You said what you said, and you did it because you wanted to get a rise out of me.” Suddenly the tables were turned, it was no longer Seongwoo pushing Daniel’s buttons, but the other way around. The concubine wasn’t sure how to respond. The man wasn’t exactly wrong, but Ong wasn’t sure what his King’s angle was. Ong didn’t think himself to be in danger, but King Daniel had a knack for surprising him. The ruler stroked his concubine’s chin, sending a shiver through the other’s body.

 

“I’m not indulging you today,” Daniel said frankly, letting go of Seongwoo’s chin and walking away. “I don’t know why it is you love making others so cross, but… Well, it doesn’t matter. No means no.” He strode over to his bed, where a servant had laid out a shirt for him, and finally pulled the garment over his body. 

 

Seongwoo wanted to say something, but he couldn’t think of what. He hadn’t expected to be so calmly dismissed. He thought guilting his highness would have been a good tactic, but he ended up backing himself up against a wall (both figuratively and literally). In hindsight, Seongwoo wasn’t sure why he let the words fall out of his mouth as they did. Though he felt grateful they did not result in some harsh punishment, he wished they hadn’t been said at all.

 

“I must admit, I appreciate you at least approaching me on this matter.” Master’s voice cut through Seongwoo’s remorseful contemplations, “As opposed to going behind my back and sneaking into the carriage with the luggage- Actually, please do not do that.” The concubine didn’t feel so drastically desperate to go, but he had to give the man credit for the idea. Fingers fiddling with the ties of his shirt, the King walked back toward Seongwoo. 

 

“I meant what I said,” His highness reiterated, “I think it’s safer for you here in the castle.” Ong repressed his primal instinct to roll his eyes at the idiocy. His impulse control was at an all-time low, and he fired back impatiently.

  
“Master… Actually, I believe you’re right,” Seongwoo said. “Nothing sounds safer to me than being far, far away from you.” He eyed the man in front of him contemptuously before storming off, departing through the partition in their wall, and slamming the door shut.

 

The concubine wasn’t even sure what precisely had caused him such anger. He wasn’t sure if it was residual stress piling on top of his existing annoyance, or something more explicit. Did everything vex him or was he upset that he didn’t get what he wanted? 

 

The King proved to be an impossibly infuriating person to deal with; one day he would act a certain way, another he’d be someone else. Most people were typically easy to read, easy to appeal to and please. However, with his Master, Seongwoo never felt fully confident he could move the man.

 

He entertained the thought that, perhaps, that was what he despised.

 

Seongwoo felt confident most of the time. He didn’t believe his high esteem for himself was completely unfounded; he thought himself fairly handsome, fit, good at talking and decently sharp. He had plenty of skills that would likely put even those titled at court to shame.

 

None of that mattered when he came face to face with his Master.

 

He never knew quite what to expect. The only circumstances under which he had spoken to the man face to face were typically awful, awful ones. While his highness seemed meek and collected in court, he’d shown a new, different side every time he and Seongwoo had spoken. 

 

The concubine groaned, wringing his hand through his hair. He decided that he’d had enough of his Master.

 

In a huff, Seongwoo threw open the door of his bedchambers, stepping out. He didn’t know what exactly he wanted to do with his evening, but he decided it would have nothing to do with King Daniel.

 

* * *

 

“...I can’t believe you’ve done this,” Sungwoon’s voice echoed down a hallway, rousing Ong’s attention. The concubine quirked an eyebrow, following the sound of his friend’s voice.

 

After rushing out of his room, he’d done little of note. For about half an hour he rolled around angrily in bed, unsure of how else to handle his discontentment. A bit later, he had returned to the library and studied a few maps to pass the time. Guanlin had stopped by, and the two of them went over language together for a bit over an hour. The chick had eventually run out of steam, groaning about how he’d starve to death and rot in his chair if he didn’t eat soon. After the young one had dismissed himself, Ong had quickly gotten bored and taken to exploring the castle again. He’d made decent progress, or so he thought; Castle Jeon no longer struck the fear of God in him, and he felt confident he wouldn’t get lost if he took a wrong turn anymore. Despite the joy of discovery, the concubine did eventually get bored; so, when he heard Sungwoon’s voice echoing down a hall, it made the concubine giddy with excitement for a break in the tedium.

 

“I think it looks better this way,” Another voice rang out.

 

“Are neither of you going to help me?!” A third person cried out. Seongwoo paced down the corridor, stopping in front of the open door where the three voices had come out from. He widened his eyes at the puzzling scene before him. 

 

The three people stood inside a rather plain, bare room. The orange rays of the setting sun came in through the windows, exposing the well worn condition of the dark wooden floor. Unlike most rooms in the castle, there was little adornment on the walls. A few tapestries hung, but nothing particularly rich. It seemed like a place that was used for function moreso than fashion.

 

Sungwoon stood with his arms crossed, shaking his head as he looked down at a young man on the floor. Another man stood beside him, body shaking as he snickered at the person on the ground. The third person, a young man with sharp looking eyes, wiggled about on the floor, wrapped up in what appeared to be a long, silk sash of sorts. The man on the floor struggled against his bindings, giving the two looking down at him a dirty look.

 

“Is this funny to you?” The man on the floor asked.

 

The other unknown person, the one with dumpling-like cheeks, nodded, “Hilarious, actually.”

 

“Jaehwan! This was your idiotic idea!” The man on the floor yelled. Ong made a mental note of the round-faced man’s name.

 

“And it honestly turned out so much better than I had anticipated,” The other, Jaehwan, giggled.

 

“I just-” Sungwoon interjected, “How? How did it get like this? How did you- How was this accomplished?” He stroked his chin.

 

“Pure talent!” Jaehwan said. 

 

The boy on the floor fought against the sash more valiantly than before. “I can still bite your ankles from here!” He hollered. The statement humored Jaehwan immensely, eliciting a shrill laugh that rivaled Sungwoon’s.

 

“D-Do you need any help in here?” Seongwoo finally spoke up. All eyes shot to him, each person looking equally surprised and embarrassed that someone had been watching them.

 

“Seongwoo!” Sungwoon said, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Have you met our court entertainers? Kim Jaehwan,” He gestured to the man standing, “-and Park Woojin,” He pointed to the one on the ground.

 

“Nice to make your acquaintance.” Woojin said, trying to sit up as much as he could in his current state.

 

Seongwoo decided to go along with the introduction as if there wasn’t a man in bondage on the floor. “It’s nice to meet you two as well. Actually- I believe I do recall seeing you two perform during the, um, Duke Hwang’s little gathering.”

 

“The one where you punched him!” Woojin said, grinning. That won him a kick from Sungwoon.

 

Seongwoo couldn’t help but chuckle, “It’s alright, Sungwoon. I imagine a lot of people will be talking about it for quite awhile. But, please-” He looked down at Woojin, “-don’t think to lowly of me for it. I understand it was a terrible mistake. I’ve probably made an awful impression on everyone because of this.”

 

“Terrible? It was hilarious!” Woojin said. Sungwoon kicked him again. Jaehwan laughed. “Ow! You’re going to break one of my ribs!” Woojin complained.

 

“Quick question.” Seongwoo said, getting the attention of the others once more, “Why is there a man on the floor wrapped in ribbon? If- If I may ask, of course. I just- It’s rather curious, don’t you think?”

 

“Yes, well, that is a good question, indeed,” Sungwoon replied, looking at Jaehwan and Woojin expectantly.

 

Jaehwan snorted but regained his composure before lending the concubines an explanation, “Well, you see, I had recently gotten letters from a friend who’d gone on a trip to the southwest. He raved about the beautiful music and dancing he’d seen there. He even sent me some sheet music and dance charts! One of the dances involved- well, it involved dancing with a sash and- and- lots of spinning, and, well...” 

 

“I thought I could do it,” Woojin added.

 

“See, what I wonder,” Sungwoon said, “Is how he managed to… To physically restrain himself.”

 

“And I told you,” Jaehwan said, “pure talent!”

 

“And I wonder-” Woojin added, his voice animatedly peppy, “-when the hell either of you will actually help me?!” Jaehwan laughed again.

 

“It’s fascinating…” Sungwoon merely mused. Ong began to think he was doing it on purpose.

 

“You-” Woojin looked at Ong, “Seongwoo! Can you please help me?” The concubine approached the wiggling court dancer, and he imitated Sungwoon’s motion of stroking his chin in thought.

 

“I have to admit,” Ong said, “I’m interested too…” The others laughed. They conducted an exaggerated “scientific” investigation for the coming minutes until Sungwoon finally crumbled, freeing Woojin from his bindings.

  
Seongwoo learned that Woojin, despite looking rather unfriendly, did not stop talking if he started on a topic he felt passionate about. Much like Ong, that was dance. The younger boy chattered like a sparrow in the morning as he rattled off his experiences in school and mused about dances he’d learned. Jaehwan, on the other hand, focused more on vocals. He had a beautiful voice and an impressive falsetto. While his vocals were immaculate, he also dabbled in composition and could play mandolin, guitar, and piano. Both performers were brilliant in their own rites despite coming off as a bit short-witted. Ong couldn’t help but envy them; they seemed to lead rather happy lives. The idea of being a court performer sounded dreamy compared to the life he’d led. After a while, the two performers bid the concubines farewell. They were expected at some post-dinner engagement for the nobles in the east wing. Sungwoon and Seongwoo excused themselves and headed in their own direction (well, more correctly: Sungwoon’s direction). 

 

A few stubborn bits of sunlight peeked in through the windows of the corridor they walked. While servants were hard at work, there were few nobles to be seen as they paced along in comfortable silence. Ong found himself gazing out the large windows of the hallway as they walked. He could begin to see leaves unfolding on the trees in the distance. The brownish-gray grass had begun showing the faintest hue of its former, green self. He wondered if he would ever be let out again.

 

“Are you hungry?” Sungwoon’s mention of food completely dismantled Ong’s wistful reflection.

 

“I- I actually am. As a matter of fact, I never properly learned how we ought to dine- us concubines, I mean.”   
  


“Well, when we’re not locked up for a week, it varies. Sometimes our masters request our company. For more casual dinners or certain events, we are expected to be present. However, during day to day routine meals, if not explicitly asked we have open options.”

 

“Open?” Seongwoo tilted his head curiously.

 

“Yes. I suppose you could say it’s one of the few genuine privileges we can say we have. You can send a note to the kitchen requesting that your meal be meal taken to your quarters. You can eat alongside your Master or in with the servants if you like.”

 

“With the servants?” Ong scrunched his nose. “What advantage is there to that?”

 

“Follow me, and you can find out,” Sungwoon said, a small smile spreading across his lips. 

 

Ong obliged happily, as he trailed the shorter man’s quick steps. Sungwoon led them down a few corridors and down a set of stairs before entering a nondescript door into a servant’s passage. It looked not unlike the area that General Park had dumped Ong in when he’d just arrived. Servants milled about, some shuffling around busily, others meandering or having a chat. A delicious smell wafted down the hall, the savory smell of vegetables mixed with a sharp spice made his nose tingle.

 

The pair walked through a kitchen chock full of busy servants; some chopped, some stirred, others mixed and tossed and kneaded busily while younger trainees were tasked with plating things prettily. Just beyond the kitchen, one could see an open door through which sat a makeshift dining room of sorts. 

 

“Good evening!” Sungwoon greeted in a singsong tone

 

The space appeared to be a storage room that had been converted into a dining area. A wooden table that had seen better days sat in the middle, surrounded by shelves of cooking implements and ingredients. Shabby, mismatched chairs lined each side, some occupied by servants on their meal break. Atop the table sat a massive pot of steaming soup; it gave off the strong scents of pepper and pickled cabbage. 

 

“Hello!” “Hey.” “Oh! You brought the rebel with you.” “Nice to see you ‘Woon.” A choir of jovial, happily fed servants greeted the older concubine. 

 

Sungwoon gave the half dozen people eating a smile and gestured to Ong, “I’m sure you all know of Seongwoo.”

 

Seongwoo chuckled embarrassedly, bowing, “As he said, I’m Seongwoo. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

 

“Whaaa- So proper!” One of the servants chirped, “Bowing even to lowly servants like us!” 

 

“I like your style,” Another person said, a young man, “Bowing to servants and punching Dukes. That’s my kind of world.” The people eating laughed and cheered in agreement. After exchanging a few more polite greetings, Sungwoon found them a few seats toward the far side of the room.

 

“People here are more relaxed,” The bespectacled man said, spooning a heaping portion of soup into a bowl. “The food upstairs is delicious, but I like the atmosphere down here a lot better.” He slid the bowl over to Seongwoo before serving himself his own portion. “I figured you’d like the change of company.”

 

Seongwoo gave his guide a grateful grin. He truly had no idea what he’d done to deserve the allegiance of someone as kind as Sungwoon. He felt genuinely unworthy of the man’s kindness; being honest with himself, Seongwoo felt guilty.

 

“You figured correctly,” Seongwoo said, taking the spoon that Sungwoon had extended to him. “The people here… They’re very warm. Do they not hold any resentment toward us?”

 

Sungwoon shrugged, “It varies. I deal with the staff often. I know many by name, so our relationship is fairly good. I mean- I may have a reputation for being particular in how things are done, but they respect that. I know of some concubines that act like nobles, like they’re above everyone else. As if we’re not servants ourselves. Perhaps that has bred some resentment among those who work around the castle.” 

 

Ong nodded, glancing around at the people happily chatting, taking their brief asylum from a life of service. His early experience with one of the servants had scarred him slightly, and he’d been afraid that most of the people viewed him negatively because of it.

 

“As for you, Duke-puncher,” Sungwoon smirked at Ong, “I’m not sure what everyone thought of you before, but you’re a bit of a hero now.” He laughed. 

 

“Am I?” Ong’s ears started tinting a pink shade.

 

“You know when you were locked up, even though I couldn’t see you until the last day, people kept asking about you. Especially the maid- oh, what’s her name…”

 

“Eunji?” 

 

“Yes! Her! She’s a riot, that one. But- Yes, everyone kept asking, ‘How’s the concubine who punched the Duke?’, ‘Is he okay?’, ‘Can we do anything for him?’. People were thrilled that someone stood up to a noble. And the fact that you got out of it alive? Unprecedented. They’ll tell stories about you, you know.”

 

“Trust me,” Ong laughed, “I know.” He decided the soup ought to be cool enough to eat and tipped the bowl to his lips. His eyes widened as the broth hit his tongue; the strong taste of pickled cabbage in combination with peppers and garlic woke him up. Pleasing tingles left by the spice pricked his tongue.

 

The two ate in amicable silence for a few minutes, drinking the broth and eating the tender cabbage and bean sprouts in the soup. Though simple, the dish felt immensely comforting to eat for Seongwoo. It felt like the type of dish that he would eat if he was sick on a cold day. When the two had mostly finished their bowls, conversation resumed.

 

“Seongwoo,” Sungwoon said, his tone soft, “Have you been alright?” It was a loaded question, but Ong felt inclined to keep the weight of his problems off of Sungwoon’s shoulders.The man didn’t deserve it.

 

“I’ve been fine,” Ong reassured the other, even though it was a lie.

 

“Your Master, the King, has he been… Have you been-”   
  
“Why are you getting so serious all of a sudden?” Ong cut him off. “My Master is- he’s quite easy to deal with, actually. Very mild mannered.” Flashes of teeth grazing his neck and dark eyes invaded his mind for just an instant. “Surprisingly so, for a King.” He finished.

 

“That’s what everyone says,” Sungwoon nodded, “You know, I never asked: what do you think of your Master? Really, truly, genuinely think?”

 

The sudden question took Seongwoo by surprise. He looked down at his bowl of soup as if it could answer the inquiry for him. Unfortunately, he saw no answers, only his murky reflection, looking up at him morosely from the bright red broth. The truth was: he didn’t know.

 

“I think, I’m sick of talking about my Master,” Seongwoo answered, animatedly pouting. “All anyone cares about is him, him, him. What is he, the ruler?” He joked.

 

Sungwoon laughed, “Of course, of course! My apologies, why would I dare ask about the King when I can rain praises upon you?”

 

“Now that is an attitude I can support,” Ong grinned.

 

“Of course you would be tired of him,” Sungwoon said as the two came down from their laughter. “I shall change the subject, then. Oh!” The older one clapped, “I am excited to go on the hunting trip with Master later in the week! Guanlin is going, too. He is absolutely thrilled. Though, knowing his Master, he won’t let the chick so much as breathe near a weapon.”

 

Ong’s easygoing expression faltered slightly, “Yes, you’d spoken of that. It’s going to be lonely with you and Guanlin gone.” He frowned. “I tried to appeal to his highness that he ought to let me outside, but he was… Not receptive.”

 

Sungwoon pursed his lips, looking Ong up and down, “Hm. I can hardly wonder why.”

  
“Wh- What are you implying?” Ong was taken aback by the other’s bluntness.

 

“Judging by what I know about you, the way you appealed to his highness was likely… Abrasive.”

 

“I- It… It wasn’t abrasive.”

 

The older man cocked an eyebrow, giving Seongwoo a disbelieving look, “No? Not even in the slightest?”

 

“No.”

 

“You expect me to believe that, in your appeal to the King, you said and did absolutely nothing that could be taken as… Offensive, callous, rude, vexing, or… Abrasive?”

 

Ong’s mouth snapped shut. He looked away briefly, crossing his arms. When the initial twinge of annoyance had passed, he replied.

 

“What am I supposed to say to him? You know- the man who demands that I call him Master. Am I to get on my hands and knees, kiss his feet and weep, begging to be given rights my peers are granted freely.”

 

“Rights? You are mistaking rights for privileges.” Sungwoon corrected him, pushing his specs up the bridge of his nose, “Privileges are earned and can be taken away at the discretion of those granting them. Things like punching a Duke, for example, can cause your privileges to be stripped. Have you not learned this?”

 

Frustration flared up inside Ong’s chest; he pinched the bridge of his nose as he spoke, “I am aware of how consequences work, I just-” He exhaled loudly, “I just... My Master-” He realized he couldn’t explain it. He’d never thought himself the type to lose his composure easily until he’d been dragged to the castle. Though one could chalk it up to the stressful situation, he thought of that reason was a poor excuse. He knew he had better judgment than his actions indicated, yet he could never quite help himself until it was too late.

 

“I do not know how to deal with him. Or any of this.” Seongwoo said, defeated. “How did you learn to manage all of this? Wait- wait- you had said you could even leave if you wanted to! Yet you haven’t. What secret are you harboring to escape?”

 

Sungwoon laughed at the inquiry, “Well, I apologize to you for my lack of clarity up to this point. Though we are both concubines, you and I do differ slightly. My situation… The circumstances of me being here is what lends me a bit more flexibility. That’s all beside the point, though-”

 

“It is not beside the point! What aren’t you telling me?!”

 

“See!” Sungwoon pointed at Ong, “That kind of behavior is why you aren’t given any privileges! You are damn lucky the King has a soft spot for you, or you would have been executed a week ago! For a concubine, you have act surprisingly entitled to certain things.”

“A soft spot?! He- He does not- I mean- Am I not entitled to basic respect?”

 

Sungwoon narrowed his eyes momentarily. The seconds he took to study the younger man dragged on until he finally appeared to be done with his assessment. Ong squirmed slightly under the other’s scrutinizing gaze.

 

“This is all an unnecessary digression. My point is: why would the King give you anything you want when you only regard him with scorn and contempt? He owes you nothing.”

 

“So it’s as I said? I am to beg for even the most base of-”

 

“That is not what I’m saying,” Sungwoon wore a firm expression on his face, and Ong’s urge to talk back suddenly disappeared. “What I am saying is that, maybe, just maybe, you can swallow your pride for fucking once and try being nice to your Master.” Seongwoo’s eyes widened at the uncharacteristic outburst.

 

Sungwoon continued, “I know that you do not want to hear it, but… This is the reality we live in. If you want something from someone, you need to give them something they want. That is a most basic principle of existence. If you want something from his highness, be it jewels or wine or to go on a trip, you need to give him something he wants. I suppose in your mind that immediately translates to something despicable and lecherous, but…” He sighed, “To be completely honest Seongwoo, more than anything, I think the King wants some kindness right now.”

 

Seongwoo frowned and his heart dipped. He knew Sungwoon was right, at least regarding his place in the castle hierarchy. He was truly in no position to make demands; if he wanted something, he needed to give something in exchange. That, he could accept. What Ong wasn’t as sure about were the King’s desires. After the man had made such an effort to mark him, the concubine wasn’t so sure if his wishes were as pure as Sungwoon thought.

 

“I-I’m sorry,” Sungwoon was the first to break the silence that had formed between them. “I spoke harshly and-”

 

“No, no, that’s okay.” Seongwoo said, “I… I should listen to you. You have been here much longer than I. I’ve tried doing things my way. It’s put me in awful situations and, now that I think about it, you’ve been the one helping me out of those situations. You are right.”

 

Sungwoon shrugged, simply replying, “I know. I’m always right.” With a small grin.

 

“Yes, of course,” Seongwoo nodded animatedly in agreement, “I am so fortunate to know a wise scholar such as yourself.” He still felt a slight hollow in his chest, but he ignored it. Instead, the concubine opted to enjoy the remainder of his dinner. Cogs turned in his head as he considered Sungwoon’s words.

 

If the King wanted kindness, kindness Seongwoo would give.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // hey all, i don't typically add postnotes, but i just want to say: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH. your continued support means so, so, so, SO much. you guys and my wonderful beta Chikabow are more the driving force behind this continued progress than i am. i love you all so much and hope you lead wonderful, carefree lives.


	16. Sometimes, There's Such A Thing As Too Much Kindness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 16 WARNING(s): sexually explicit content, explicit language

“It’s a nice painting, isn’t it?” A woman’s voice cut through the silence Seongwoo had acclimated himself to. The concubine remained stationary, uncaring that it was impolite.

 

After his conversation with Sungwoon, the two had parted. Sungwoon rambled something or the other regarding his master, castle matters, and a few other long words that Ong had no particular interest in. He distinctly remembered the advisor’s ward mouthing the words: ‘Be nice,’ multiple times before striding off.

 

The sun had barely dipped beneath the sky, and the nobles had headed to parlors to drink and play cards after dinnertime. Some concubines had been obligated to join their masters, others did so willingly. Seongwoo had felt grateful that his Master ordered no such requirement of him. Of course, Ong thought, it was ultimately the wise decision considering his previous experience with courtiers.

 

Though Seongwoo enjoyed the library, he had spent most of his days in and out of a dozen or so libraries and had tired of them. His room was also a generally less appealing option in lieu of being held captive there for days. Hence, Seongwoo found himself in one of the drawing rooms in the east wing. The decor was fine, though relatively minimal. Large cushions woven with metallic fibers and glass beads sat atop exotic rugs. Lush silk and velvet tapestries adorned with tassels festooned the corners of the room. The overall design direction seemed to be one inspired by a place far off from the Kang Empire.

 

Seongwoo, in his muddled and discontent state, had draped himself over one of the massive cushions sitting on the floor. He’d been staring at the ceiling for an insurmountable amount of time; probably longer than he wanted to admit to himself.

 

He lamented his current state, wondering what happened to him. Truthfully, he knew what had happened to him: he’d been captured, taken prisoner, stripped of rights and treated like property. What surprised him was how thoroughly it had shaken him. He supposed that going into the entire situation, he had assumed that he was going to come out fine, that he could retain his sense of pride and humanity. With each passing day, each encounter with his Master and the nobles of Castle Jeon, a bit of that humanity slipped away.

 

That was the state in which the intruder had found him.

 

“I suppose it is,” Seongwoo replied in a gloomy tone to the familiar woman. The sound of something shuffling around echoed in the empty room, then the sound of fabric sliding across fabric. The woman had lugged another massive cushion next to Seongwoo’s and she laid down next to him, turning to face him.

 

“Would you like to talk about it?” She asked. Seongwoo chewed on his lower lip, finally summoning the will to face the woman. He tried not to look too somber when he came face to face with Eunji. She quirked an inquisitive brow.

 

“Talk about what?”

 

“Would you like to discuss why you have been staring at the ceiling for nearly an hour now? I’ve come to deduce that it is not due to an appreciation of fine arts.”

 

“It- It hasn’t been an hour… Has it?” Eunji nodded with a pitying look; Seongwoo frowned.

 

“You left the door open. I’ve been running back and forth doing work all evening, and I haven’t seen you move from this spot. Come to think of it, I haven’t spoken to you since you-”

 

“Since I punched a Duke in the face?”

 

Eunji laughed, “Oh, how I wish I had seen it.” She managed to get a tiny ghost of a smile to flash across Ong’s lips. “You were… Put away for a bit afterward, though. Now you’ve been let out. Not without a few scars, so it seems…” She glanced at the faint remnants of King Daniel’s handiwork on Ong’s neck. The concubine looked away, slightly embarrassed.

 

“It wasn’t much at all, really.” He tried to get her off the subject. “Just as you said, I was put away. If anything, the whole affair was an absolute snore.”

 

“It appears you are still snoring if your behavior for the past hour is any indication.”

 

“I apologize if I alarmed you. I merely lost track of time, I suppose.”

 

“Or perhaps, you were lost in your thoughts,” Eunji said bluntly.

 

“Do you not have some task more pressing at the moment than keeping me company?”

 

“Ah, misdirection. So that is a yes, then. I _am_ correct that something is especially troubling you.” She was right, and something about her knowing it immensely bothered Seongwoo. He didn’t want people in the castle nosing about in the realm of his emotions (even if they were people he considered trustworthy). He supposed it was his bad for so obviously displaying his fretfulness to the outside world. Regardless, he made a mental note that Eunji was an observant one.

 

“Do you expect to have a heartfelt talk about our feelings now?” Seongwoo replied, unamused.

 

Eunji snorted, “Well, if you prefer I can leave you and this wonderful painting of some long dead lady and you can continue your enchanting evening of wallowing in angst peacefully.”

 

“She’s not some dead lady,” Ong said.

 

“I- What?”

 

“The woman in the painting,” Seongwoo noted, “She’s not dead. I mean- She is… I suppose. It’s most proper to say she was never alive.”

 

“I… You’ve lost me.”

 

“Well, I suppose a model did stand in, but… It’s a painting of Andromeda. You can tell by the chains around her wrists.”

 

“Of course. Andromeda. I know who that is.” Eunji said sarcastically.

 

“Andromeda, the chained lady. She was the daughter of Cassiopeia. When Cassiopeia boasted that her daughter was the most beautiful woman alive, it made the God of the sea, Poseidon, angry. He ravaged the shores and, to make everything right, Cassiopeia sacrificed Andromeda to the ocean. She bound her daughter to a rock and left her on the beach so the sea could take her. Hence the chains. Of course, she was freed eventually. A hero happened upon her, set her free and wed her.”

 

“Oh… Well, I suppose her mother was skipped on the guest list for that wedding.”

 

Ong chuckled at Eunji’s hyperbolic indifference toward the dramatic story. The maid looked between the concubine and the painting for a few seconds before speaking again.

 

“Unlucky fate to be chained like that. At least you’re free now.” She said with a smile. Seongwoo gave a weak grin in return. He knew she spoke in rather relative terms and meant well despite the fallacy of the statement.

 

“It is nice being able to walk beyond my bedroom door,” Seongwoo conceded, “Though it would nicer to go outside, travel with everyone on that silly hunting trip of his…”

 

“What do you mean?” Eunji tilted her head. “I was sure you were going on the hunting trip.”

 

Seongwoo shook his head.

 

“Well, no wonder you’re in such a state. I’d be _furious_ in your position. All this shit you’ve had to sit and smile through and you still can’t step outside of the castle; not even for a yearly tradition.” Eunji scoffed at the gall of it.

 

“I _know_ ,” Seongwoo said. For the first time, someone had been empathetic toward the reality of his situation. Though he never liked to reduce himself to whining, he granted that it could be rather cathartic.

 

“Well, what did his highness say? Was it a hard no or a more suggestive kind or… Maybe?”

 

“Quite a definitive no from him.”

 

“Really?” Eunji pursed her lips, looking up in thought, “Interesting. Did you make your case?”

 

“Not…” Seongwoo’s mind replayed small instants of their encounter: his Master’s discerning gaze, the dips and peaks of his collarbone, being backed against the wall. “Not effectively.”

 

“Well, just make it again, more effectively. His highness is a rather sympathetic man, bit of a softie really. I’m sure he can be worn down easily.”

 

“I am not convinced. He was very explicit, and, quite frankly, I don’t wish to provoke him too much, should he decide to…”

 

“Lock you up?” The maid finished the concubine’s thought. He nodded, frowning.

 

“Sungwoon told me to be ‘kind’, that I should appeal to the King’s more emotional side.” Seongwoo rolled his eyes.

 

“What? No! Get naked.” Eunji sneered at the of an emotional appeal.

 

“Oh my god.” Seongwoo blurted out a reaction before he could hold his tongue. “Do not worry too much for me, I have resigned myself to enjoying some peace and quiet here in the castle while the others are gone. There is no need to further trouble my Master or my self.”

 

“That is an exceptionally awful lie.” Eunji sat up and crossed her arms, squinting her eyes at the concubine.

 

Seongwoo sat up and, with a shrug, spoke, “Well it is a lie I’ve decided to commit to. Speaking of something enough means it shall come true eventually, yes?”

 

Eunji studied the concubine, looking him up and down, “What has his highness done to you to make you so afraid of him?”

 

“I- Excuse me?” Ong furrowed his brow, drawn aback with mortification. “What?”

 

“You fear him,” Eunji thought aloud, “But not in the way one would think. You do not fear consequences of your actions in his presence. You fear being in his presence. Is he truly so drastically different behind closed doors to inspire such terror?”

 

“Wh- I- I am _not_ afraid of my Master.” Ong asserted defiantly. True, he had anxieties regarding his status, his everyday existence, and his place in the grand scheme of the Kang Kingdom. However, when Seongwoo thought about the man called king, Kang Daniel, he did not think of him with horror or even dread. His most prevailing emotion was hate. He knew that, given the opportunity to face Daniel on equal footing, it would be Daniel who would grovel in fear, not him.

 

“Oh, really?” Eunji sounded amused, “Then prove it.”

 

“What?”

 

“I said: prove it.” A devilish smile sprouted across her lips. “Prove to me you are not afraid of your Master.”

 

“I- I am not! And how would I go about proving such a thing anyway?”

 

“Let’s make a friendly wager.” The maid said. “You have about three days until the privileged few nobles embark on their hunting trip. That gives you three days to face your Master and convince him to take you. If you are given permission to go, well… I will owe you something. I know you think a servant may not have much to offer, but I am much more well connected than you may think. If you are still here when everyone else departs, you shall owe me something. I’m not sure what exactly, but I suppose I’ve got three days to figure it out.”

 

A smile teased at the edges of Seongwoo’s mouth. He despised the idea of dishing out kindness for the sake of his Master, but for a wager? He would do damn near anything just to win. It framed his entire situation in a different light. His being barred from travelling wasn’t an inconvenience, but a challenge. He felt confident that he could overcome any challenge, and surely wooing his Master would be no different. Lending the idea more thought, he realized how ridiculously cerebral he had been approaching the man. He’d been too caught up in odd emotions to see everything for what it was: a problem he could solve, attaining a means to an end.

 

“You’re on.” He said, extending a hand to Eunji. The maid shook it with a firm grip and a wide grin. When the two had sealed their deal, they stood up. Seongwoo felt much more cheerful than he had when he’d laid down. He felt like he had a purpose, something to work toward. Even if said thing was a silly wager, that silly wager gave him a reason to put his mind to work.

 

“I’m telling you,” Eunji joked as the two started walking toward the doorway, “Just get naked and he’ll do anything you want.”

 

“I am not doing- doing that with- I mean- Stop!”

 

Eunji laughed heartily, “You don’t have to do anything. Just… Remind him what he’ll be missing when he’s gone. Don’t throw yourself at him, merely dangle yourself at a distance, just barely within reach. Though, honestly, with your beauty, you could stand statue still and he’d trip over himself to make your wishes come true. Oh- Wait, I shouldn’t give you suggestions.”

 

Seongwoo chuckled, “I’m sure he’d love to open the door to his chambers to see a naked man standing statue still. Nothing strange about that at all.”

 

“I think you’d alarm the servants more. Though, thinking more about it, they’d probably quite enjoy seeing you naked…”

 

“The servants?”

 

“Yes, silly. The ones who collect him for his night bath. It’d be quite a shock to them. You could even hide behind the door and give them a scare-”

 

“I am not going to stand behind a door naked so I can jump out at people.”

 

“You are no fun.”

 

“I am _very_ fun.”

 

The two chortled as they bantered, slowly walking down the corridor outside the drawing room. Seongwoo remained engaged in their friendly conversation, but in the back of his mind, he mulled over the possibilities of his wager.

 

* * *

 

The concubine shivered as he exited his bedroom door, slowly strolling down the hall. He felt incredibly grateful that, at that hour, none but staff wandered his particular corner of the castle. Goosebumps spurred his skin as the cool draft coming down the hall hit his skin. A chill ran up his spine with each step his bare feet took on the cold marble tile.  His only protection from the night air was an exquisitely embroidered silk robe that he’d found in his wardrobe. While the stitchwork was incredibly impressive, depicting a scene with a crane drinking at a pond, it did little to keep him warm.

 

Just a few doors down from his own was his highness’s private bathing room. He’d only just learned of its existence due to Eunji’s offhanded comment, but the second she mentioned a nightly bath, he got to thinking.

 

Kindness was one way to appeal to someone, charming wiles another. What better way to combine them than in the bath?

 

The concubine had zero intention of engaging in any lascivious activities, but he liked Eunji’s more blunt angle to the issue than Sungwoon’s sentimental one. Emotions and biases and preferences all got muddled, and often the art of conversation could only communicate such things to a certain, flawed degree. Physical arousal was simple, and despite his initial hangups, Seongwoo admitted that he had a certain skill in employing it.

His short trip to the bathroom ended all too soon, and reality abruptly presented itself in front of him. He could tell by the painted tiles and warmth coming from the door that he’d found the proper place. He shifted his weight from foot to foot anxiously. A piece of his mind wanted nothing more than to run at that instant; but, the appeal of winning a wager and proving he could do something someone said he couldn’t proved too strong.

 

Seongwoo took a deep breath and knocked on the colorfully ornamented door. His heart dipped anxiously as he awaited a response. After a few seconds with nothing, he believed that he’d gotten erroneous information; he quickly imagined a scenario in which he washed his face and hid under his covers. Much to his chagrin, the bubble of hope popped, and the door slowly opened in front of him.

 

The servant who had opened the door looked at Seongwoo confusedly, then back at the King as if to ask: “What should I do?” Across the room, King Daniel had already gotten into the massive carved marble tub draped with linen. His highness was a tall man, yet inside the vast structure of stone, he looked like a child; a testament to just how richly furnished the bathroom was. The King exchanged puzzled looks with the servant.

 

Despite the unexpected nature of the visit, he nodded at the servant affirmatively, greeting his concubine: “Come in, Seongwoo.”

 

Seongwoo obliged, striding in slowly. He tried to distract himself, glancing at glossy stone pillars that ascended into the domed ceiling. The pink quartz tile laid out on the bathroom’s floor felt warm, unlike the cold stones and woods of the halls. Just like every other room in the castle, finicky floral trims adorned the panels of the wall, matching the tops of quartz pillars. Scents of lavender and rosemary filled the humid room.

 

The concubine clutched at the silk embroidered robe he wore for dear life; in that moment, it served as a barrier of sorts. Even if only temporarily, he shielded himself from judgemental stares and prying eyes. The scent of lavender wafted into his nose as he stepped closer and closer to the lavishly crafted tub. Tendrils of steam danced above the water’s surface.

 

King Daniel sat up straighter as he watched his concubine approach inquisitively. Seongwoo made it a point to maintain eye contact with the man as he walked closer. He prayed that his nerves weren’t visible; in truth, his heart flitted about wildly in his chest. Goosebumps pricked his skin as he strode across the cool marble tile. Upon reaching the King, Seongwoo realized he wasn’t quite sure on the particulars of etiquette in a situation like his. Luckily for him, King Daniel looked so shocked he was even present that formalities didn’t seem to even occur to him.  

 

With a bow of the head, Seongwoo spoke, “Master?”

 

“Yes, Seongwoo?” Daniel replied; he eyed the concubine quizzically, “What is it? Is something the matter?”

 

“N-no, not at all Master.” Seongwoo bit his lip nervously, his pupils began shaking,“I- I apologize for disturbing your bath. It, um, it’s not urgent, actually. If- if you want it can actually wait-”

 

“Seongwoo,” Daniel interjected calmly. “Please, tell me, what did you need?” Seongwoo’s heart pounded, and the sound nearly deafened him, but he pushed forward with his plan.

 

With renewed confidence, the concubine looked his Master in the eye. He released his grip on the front of the silk robe; taking hold of the collar between his fingers, he slid it down slowly, exposing bruised flesh. When he’d gotten the rich red cloth just beneath his shoulders, he shrugged, letting the garment drop to the ground naturally.

 

“Actually,” Seongwoo finally spoke, “I was wondering if I could join you.” He suppressed a smirk at the sight of the King’s face, how it had gone from perturbed to astounded. His highness’s mouth dropped open ever so slightly. The concubine noticed his Master’s shifting eyes, how they deliberately studied him up and down.

 

King Daniel sat in dazed silence for a couple of agonizingly long minutes, and Seongwoo started to wonder if he was about to be rejected. The thought hadn’t occurred to him prior, and even entertaining the idea of being rejected after completely exposing himself made Seongwoo shudder internally.

 

Finally, Daniel seemed to remember that he’d been spoken to, and he responded, “Wh- Well, uh, of course.” He tore his gaze away from his concubine turning to one of the servants. “Thank you for your help as usual.” He said, “You two are dismissed.” The servants nodded, bowing before departing. Seongwoo had a feeling the two would erupt into a fit of whispers the second they closed the door behind them, but he paid it no mind. There were more pressing matters at the forefront of his mind. Once the two servants had excused themselves, King Daniel turned to face his concubine again.

 

Suddenly, it was Seongwoo’s turn to gawk.

 

Completely unexpectedly, King Daniel stood up, the sound of disturbed water echoing loudly. Before Ong could control himself, his eyes shot to the man’s physique, drinking in every inch of that which had been previously unseen. Daniel’s broad shoulders proceeded well developed, statuesque musculature. Water ran between the peaks and valleys of his sculpted abdominals, leading Seongwoo’s eyes dangerously low. Before the concubine could conduct any more undignified observation, he stopped himself. Heat began flushing his face and he averted his gaze, embarrassed.

 

“Let me help you,” Daniel said, extending a hand to Seongwoo.

 

Seongwoo’s heart jumped into his throat for an instant, but he stuffed the feeling back down to his chest, where it belonged. Making an effort to keep his gaze forward, looking at his highness’s face, he nodded.

 

“Th-thank you.” Seongwoo took the King’s hand, using him for balance as he carefully ascended the small set of steps leading into the massive tub. He inhaled sharply as his skin came into contact with hot water. It stung, bordering on uncomfortable, but with time it became more bearable. When he managed to get both feet in the large basin, he became unsure of what to do next.

 

Just as he had every time he seemed to hatch a plot, Seongwoo realized he hadn’t quite thought far enough in advance. For an instant, his eyes met the King’s. Another wave of heat washed over Seongwoo. Just as quickly as they’d met, their pupils flitted away, expressing an acute interest in things elsewhere. The King let go of Seongwoo’s hand, which he’d still been holding.

 

Kindness, Seongwoo reminded himself, that’s what the King wants, and that’s what he intended to give.

 

“H-here,” His highness said, interrupting Seongwoo’s thoughts. He lowered himself into the bath and spread his legs, “This would be easiest, right? For you to sit here?” He looked down, then back up at the concubine. The concubine gulped fearfully but obliged nonetheless. His one consolation was that the King seemed to be his blundering self again.

 

Seongwoo turned around, taking a seat between the King’s legs. His heartbeat quickened as he scooted closer to the man and leaned back. The pressure of the man’s inner thighs pressing against his legs felt far too apparent to the concubine. Seongwoo made sure to keep a distance between himself and his Master that he deemed appropriate. The King respected the space, resting his arms on the sides of the tub and leaning back.

 

The two sat quietly for awhile, his highness dozing off while Seongwoo nervously wrung his hands beneath the water. He’d gotten the physical aspect out of the way, and so he began formulating the best way to address the more emotional part. It must have come as quite a shock to the King after his concubine had stormed out of his room earlier. He wondered what Daniel was thinking, what he desired to hear.

 

“I’m sorry,” Seongwoo broke the silence after a few minutes. He cast his gaze downward; he _had_ felt legitimately embarrassed by his behavior. Though it felt ludicrous that he be the one apologizing to his Master, at the very least he could draw from something genuine as he spoke.

 

“For what?” Daniel asked.

 

“My behavior earlier. It was completely inappropriate, to say the least. I should…” The concubine winced internally, “I should know my place and speak more properly to my Master.” The King remained silent for an extended period of time; it could have been a quarter of an a hour as far as Seongwoo was concerned.

 

“You should.” Daniel said when he spoke again. Seongwoo’s entire body froze. The King continued, “And I suppose it would be proper of me to punish you severely for speaking as you did, but…” He heaved a sigh, “It doesn’t matter.” He sounded defeated, strangely resigned to the fact that his own concubine refused to toe the line.

 

Seongwoo found it almost pitiful that the man had become so contemptuous of disrespect. It wasn’t that he desired punishment, but he started to question if Daniel gave any weight to his title at all. Perhaps, Ong thought, he did perceive his title to have weight: the kind of weight one struggled to drag along behind them, a hindrance.

 

Daniel spoke again, “You have no reason to trust me, and it would be shocking to hear you felt safe around me. I am not deluded.” He leaned his head back, closing his eyes before continuing, “The fact that you are here, offering to make amends of some sort despite these facts speaks to how immensely brave you are.” Seongwoo blinked confusedly.

 

It took him a few seconds to process the realization that he’d just been given a compliment, a genuine one. He’d heard plenty of people, nobles and servants alike, compliment his appearance. People had praised the lines of his face, his star-like birthmark, and his pretty eyes; those with less tact had even made particularly lewd comments with the intention of flattery. Hearing a noble, his Master no less, point out a part of his character came as a surprise.

 

“B-brave?” Seongwoo choked out awkwardly. He wasn’t sure how long he’d gone without responding and felt awkward. “I just wanted to make things right, that’s all.” In truth, the concubine knew damn well that he was brave. He didn’t consider himself overly confident, but he’d taken on many things that would make others cower. Even though he held himself in high esteem, he knew there was a time and a place for acting prideful. He decided that the bath was neither of those things and continued keeping his head downward. He relaxed slightly.

 

“If only it were that easy,” Daniel mused, his voice slurring with sleepiness. Seongwoo began to wonder if his Master was referring solely to their incident earlier.

 

Kindness, the concubine reminded himself, kindness. He thought to himself: what would I want in this situation? What would his highness want? What will get me what I want? Ideas whirred about his head until he settled on something that he believed reasonable.

 

Pressure pushed on Seongwoo’s chest as he moved. The motion was slight, a simple adjustment of position, but to him, it felt immensely anxiety-inducing. The concubine scooted backward in the tub and leaned back so his body was flush with King Daniel’s. Before he could mentally talk himself out of it, he grabbed each of his Master’s wrists and wrapped the other’s arms around his body snugly. He rested his head on the King’s shoulder as comfortably as he could. Behind him, he felt the other stiffen momentarily, probably taken aback by the unforeseen, affectionate gesture.

 

The concubine ignored the bubbling nerves in his chest and throat when he responded,“Nothing around here is easy,” Something about being in his current position made him feel bizarre. He felt strange on a level that transcended physical sensation. “I suppose that is why I feel inclined to apologize. Things are already difficult as they are, and I have done nothing to make it easier.”

 

Daniel picked his head up and opened his eyes. His breath tickled the back of the concubine’s neck.

 

“It is not your duty to make my life easier.” The King said.

 

“And it is not my duty to make it harder, either. Well, it is, but, not in that way.” Seongwoo clamped his mouth shut, hoping the slip of the tongue would go unnoticed. He cursed his reflexive instinct to be satirical; it didn’t help that his natural reaction to duress was to cheer the upset person up. He felt strangely embarrassing to let something genuine slip through, even if it played into his ulterior motives. He prayed that his highness would not be offended at the lewd jest.

 

King Daniel snorted behind him.

 

Seongwoo remained still; he made a deliberate effort to not to look at the other man or smile with satisfaction. He pretended not to notice the other’s arms close around him more tightly. He opted to continue on.

 

“You’re funny,” Daniel said, “In more ways than one.”

 

“So I’ve heard.” Seongwoo replied. He felt tempted to say, “Which is why I would make great company on your travels”, but opted not to, aware it was an awful idea. Instead, he geared the conversation back toward Daniel, “And what of you?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Do you like to make others laugh? Wait- I- I apologize, that, um, that’s a strangely personal question-”

 

“Not at all,” A grin teased at the edge of Daniel’s lips. “I mean- the question it’s not odd. As for making others laugh. I…” He sighed, “I wish I could. I suppose sometimes I try, but I’m certainly no natural. Perhaps had I continued down the path of nobility, getting the title of Duke or Prince, I could make people laugh. However as King… All laughter dies when I enter a room.” The man’s voice sounded wistful. It struck Seongwoo as peculiar that the man would desire something so nonessential, nonmaterial; reflecting more on it, he supposed he would feel similar if he lacked the ability to bring others joy.

 

“I suppose you can feel relieved that they don’t laugh at you.” It felt inappropriate to Seongwoo, suddenly switching from yelling at the man in the morning to acting so receptive just that night. He then remembered that his entire stay at Castle Jeon had been built on a foundation of deception and quickly shelved the guilty thoughts.

 

Daniel laughed again. Seongwoo had remembered seeing it once, at the Duke’s party, he recalled.Though he didn’t see it fit to turn and look, he imagined the man’s lips spreading into a  beaming smile and his eyes squinting to mere crescents.

 

“See, like that,” The King said, “So effortlessly you weave words together into something clever and witty. How I wish I had such powers.” Seongwoo bit back the immediate response of, “Perhaps you just aren’t very clever or witty”. As hilarious as he found it, it was quite the opposite of the “kindness” Sungwoon had so earnestly advised.

 

“Words are a double-edged sword,” The concubine replied, “They can bring others great joy or great pain. They can bring upon yourself great fortune or great punishment.”

 

“Hm…” The King mused aloud, “You’re incredibly well-spoken.” He uttered. Seongwoo wasn’t sure if the statement had been a compliment or a verbalized observation. He didn’t sound necessarily surprised, but as if he’d just realized something, slotted a piece into a puzzle. Something about the tone bothered the concubine, and he quickly decided to remedy it, swerving away from that tangent of thought.

 

“You read all kinds of nice things in books,” Seongwoo shrugged, his shoulders rubbing against the King’s. “Sometimes they stick.” He adjusted himself, having slid down a bit as they’d idly spoken, and he heard a tiny, almost inaudible inhalation from behind him.

 

Recognition of their proximity swept over Seongwoo’s mind. He’d been lulled into such a sense of relaxation, so focused on conversation, that he’d forgotten his body rested against his Master’s. He wondered what on earth had spurred his highness’s little gasp, but all too slowly, conclusions began locking into place.

 

Seongwoo bit his lip; a tiny, mischievous thought flashed in his mind. His rational, disciplined side tugged his self control, urging him not to indulge, but his carnal impulse easily won. Though he refused to consciously acknowledge it, he felt eager to show his Master how kind he was. In a quick, casual motion, the concubine shifted backward. When his body was flush with the King’s, he let himself slide down so he could lean his head on the other’s shoulder.

 

Daniel momentarily stiffed at the sudden rearrangement, but he quickly relaxed. His arms slackened slightly, and Seongwoo suddenly felt hyperaware of the way the other’s body moved around him. The King’s hands relaxed, and Seongwoo could just barely feel fingertips grazing his leg. Swallowing hard, the concubine willed their casual conversation to continue just so.

 

“Master,” He said, “May I ask you something?”

 

“Yes, Seongwoo?” Daniel said. He sounded cool, composed, yet his body spoke differently. His fingertips fidgeted ever so slightly, tickling the concubine’s skin. Seongwoo could feel the man’s chest rising and falling with irregular frequency, and his breaths sounded subtly shaky.

 

“What are the gardens like?” Seongwoo asked in a singsong tone. Though his own body language may have communicated more anxiety than he’d have liked, he labored to sound as nonchalant as possible.

 

“The gardens? Well they’re- they’re very green, I suppose.” His highness paused to mull over his response, “They’re quite pretty, really. Over the past few centuries our Kingdom has grown, and we have discovered a lot of new plant life. One of our past Kings, probably from a century ago, he adored green life. He decided to feature a large variety of plants in our garden. Orchards, flowerbeds, crops, hedges, and carved topiaries… There’s so many I can’t count. He’d envisioned a place in which we could spend an afternoon and tour the entire globe via plant life. At least- that’s what my teachers eulogized when I was a child. For all we know, all the foreign plant life could have ended up here by accident.” He shrugged.

 

The dash of cynicism nearly elicited a chuckle from Seongwoo, but he refrained. Instead, he adjusted himself again, moreso with the intention of remaining upright than any other particular reason. Seongwoo had tried his best to avoid thinking about the fact that there was a body behind him, not a slab of marble; but, it became increasingly difficult. Regardless of the movement’s cursory nature, he felt the King freeze up again.

 

Suddenly, it was his turn to freeze up.

 

A heat even more intense than that of the bathwater surged over the concubine as he felt the King: every inch of him. Words and logical thought temporarily crumbled, and only physical sensations, touch, smell, and hearing were registered. The concubine labored to keep his breathing stable and composed as his skin burned at the contact with the King’s. His brain unconsciously cataloged the sensations: a collarbone against his shoulder blades, pectorals leading to abdominals, pelvis bones protruding into the small of his back, a half-hard prick pressing against his ass.

 

The concubine’s breath hastened, and he repeated the motion. Once again, something he could play off as innocent, unconscious even. He shifted about just ever so slightly, deliberately brushing against the other’s body, making full contact. Whether out of poise or a need to collect himself, the King stayed still as a statue. A dizzying swill of feeling began stirring in the concubine’s chest and throat, but he swallowed them down stubbornly, pushing forward to use the leverage he’d gained.

 

“It sounds beautiful,” Seongwoo said. He sighed, asking, “Can you see the stars clearly from there?”

 

“Wh-what?” Daniel’s tone sounded distracted as if he hadn’t quite heard Seongwoo. The concubine suppressed a grin and adjusted his position again, rubbing his body against the other man’s more boldly. Something about making his Master squirm felt incredibly gratifying.

 

“The gardens.” Ong said, “Can you see the stars from the gardens?”

 

“O-oh.” Daniel replied. “I’m… I’m not sure. I’d never gone there at night. Not often, anyways. The stars are beautiful, but, admittedly… I’d never paid much attention to them.” He sounded sheepish. “Mother assured that the governess kept a close eye on me. So, I didn't often make the late night trips to the gardens that I’d always fantasized about as a child.”

 

“No?” Seongwoo chuckled, “That’s quite unfortunate. Aside from beauty, knowledge of the sky can be astoundingly useful. You can look up and know exactly where you are if you study with diligence. That’s not to mention all of the lore and mythology derived from star formations. It’s massively entertaining, really. The stories range from romantic to comedic to ludicrous…”

 

“I do remember hearing some of those as a child.”

 

“Oh? Do you recall having a favorite?”

 

“Hmm… I always liked the story of the mighty Hercules. He was unbelievably strong but undeniably human. He carved his path to the heavens with kindness and immense courage, was love and respected by all…” Seongwoo nearly chuckled at how typical his highness’s choice was. Of course Daniel would like Hercules, he thought. Nothing suited the King more than the well-meaning hero type. He could imagine the childish royal gleefully listening to a storyteller recounting a tale of Hercules’s escapades. Before he could spit back a witty rebuttal about the noble’s basic taste in myths, Seongwoo reminded himself that he was there to be kind.

 

“How do you so much about the stars, Seongwoo?” Daniel asked, taking the concubine by surprise.

 

Seongwoo took a moment to answer, he hadn’t expected his highness to ask him anything personal, “I read a lot.” He replied. “Recently I have a wealth of time to do so. Unfortunate that you don’t, but… Perhaps I can do this again,” Seongwoo dared to speak a bit more freely. “I’ve not felt this relaxed in a long, long time.” He sighed happily, leaning his head back on his Master’s shoulder and closing his eyes. T

 

“You are welcome to,” Daniel replied, his voice soft; his fingers twitched.

 

“When you come back?” The concubine said, “If that’s alright with you, Master.” He pushed his body against Daniel’s again, deliberately spreading his legs so the King’s hands fell further between them. Seongwoo’s heart started to race as he arched his back, just ever so slightly. Daniel’s hard cock slotted between his ass cheeks nicely, and it made the concubine’s job of teasing him easier.

 

The King let out a breathy chuckle, “When I come back…” He murmured. Seongwoo knew the man’s poise was beginning to falter at an increasingly rapid pace. He could feel the other’s chest bob up and down erratically, feel him clench and unclench his hands into fists. All of this accomplished by some skin to skin contact and polite conversation; the idea of it nearly made Seongwoo laugh. Perhaps he would have looked on the situation more humorously if he hadn’t felt so utterly drunk.

 

For the first time since stepping foot in the castle, Seongwoo felt like he had a speck of control. Memories of a wager or an end goal blurred, dissolving into haze. The appeal of a won wager paled greatly in comparison to what Seongwoo felt now: power. Though his means of acquiring it were undignified, and it was, ultimately, rather inconsequential, it intoxicated him.

 

“Yes, when you come back,” Seongwoo repeated. His cheeks flushed, he “adjusted” his hips again, a spark of pleasure jolting through him as he elicited yet another tiny gasp from the man behind him. “When will that be again?”

 

“Uh- What? My, um, apologies. What was that Seongwoo?” The King had clearly been a tad distracted. Seongwoo smirked internally.

 

“When will you be coming back from your trip?” The concubine tried to sound as upbeat and innocent as possible, as if he didn’t deliberately press his ass against his Master’s throbbing cock.

 

“It’ll just be, the…” He trailed off, his fingers brushed against Seongwoo’s inner thigh. It sent a shiver through the concubine’s body; he was sure his master had felt it. “I will return Monday. I leave Thursday and return Monday, yes.” He finished the thought.

 

Seongwoo was tempted to say something like, “I’ll miss you”, but quickly discarded it. It sounded entirely too sweet, to the point of being unbelievable. He let the King squirm a bit (literally) before dignifying him with a response.

 

“I suppose Duke Hwang will have a few others like me brought along to entertain you lot…” He sighed.

 

“Like you?” It took Daniel a few seconds to understand what Seongwoo had implied. “Oh- well… He may.” Seongwoo played with what he wanted to say next. Though pleasure prodded in his gut and pulsed between his ears, he still remained canny in choosing his words.

 

“I suppose you will forget all about me while you’re away, then.” He let a drop of jealousy just barely tinge his words. Seongwoo figured, giving his highness the impression that there was fondness for him would lend him greater favor. “I do hope you have a splendid time. And that you remain safe, of course.” Daniel chuckled again, and Seongwoo was all too cognizant of the way his body joggled beneath his. The perception delivered another shock through the concubine’s body, one he tried to ignore.

 

“Forget about you?” Daniel said after he’d come down from laughter. He leaned forward to rest his forehead on the back of Seongwoo’s head; his highness’s unsteady breaths tickled the concubine, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He trembled as his Master continued to speak, “Seongwoo I could never do such a thing.”

 

For the concubine, heartbeats started drowning out the other noises echoing in the quartz bath chamber.

 

“Sure you can,” Seongwoo said, a tiny part of him hopeful that his highness, would, in fact, forget about him. His life would have been made infinitely easier. “Surrounded by such beauty in a remote, luxurious villa, in high spirits after a day of hunting, your blood pumping from the thrill of the chase…” The concubine surprised himself with the pseudo-poetic words that spilled out of his mouth.

 

Daniel laughed again, “You really do speak quite dramatically at times, don’t you?” He nuzzled the concubine’s head. “This may come as a disappointment to you, but,” The King placed a barely-there kiss along the back of Seongwoo’s head, “I will not forget about you so easily.”

 

A weight began pressing Seongwoo from all sides, inside and out. He blinked the blurriness from his eyes, attempting to focus, to remember what he’d been thinking.

 

“What makes you so sure?” The concubine asked; it took entirely too much effort for him to keep his voice stable and cool. His heart hammered so furiously that he thought it would jump into his throat. “I- I would not begrudge you for it. You are the King, ruler of the land. You are free to take what you please, yes?”

 

“You forget,” Daniel’s voice had quieted to a whisper, the way it tickled his ears caused his entire body to quiver involuntarily. “That you are mine.” His highness’s nose nudged Seongwoo’s earlobe. “I may rule this territory, but that does not mean I rule everything.”

 

“What do you mean?” Seongwoo asked. In his state of disarray, all he could think to do was play along; a dizzying assortment of emotions roiled inside of him, blurring his thoughts and dulling his logic. Where his mind failed, his body filled in the blanks; he leaned into his Master, idly swaying in search of more contact, more friction. “You have land, you have title… You have power. What more is there left for you to conquer?”

 

Daniel answered bluntly. He answered as if he was informing his concubine that water was wet or the sky blue.

 

His highness whispered, “Your heart,” before his lips closed around the concubine’s earlobe. He gently nibbled at the tender area, flicking it with his tongue and sucking ever so slightly. The slight, instantaneous gesture in tandem with his softly spoken words unravelled the concubine’s last threads of composure.

 

Seongwoo’s breath hitched and his eyes rolled back.

 

Reality crashed down on him with dizzying abruptness.

 

He had gone so, so much further than he’d intended. Kindness and teasing had somehow gotten pushed aside in favor of something much more repulsive to him. His stomach ached with the familiar pressure of need. Desire had clouded his vision and his judgement, leading him to a position infinitely more compromising than he’d ever wanted to land in. Though he felt shame, it did nothing to diminish the libidinous mass of desires stewing in his gut. If anything, it fueled the fire which he so greatly desired to put out.

 

His mission had been imperiled.

 

He stood up suddenly, slapping on a mask of serenity as he turned to look at the King over his shoulder, “Good night, Master.” He said, giving the man a small grin before exiting the tub. He willed himself to pretend that the King wasn’t staring at him and picked up his robe.

 

Feigning dignity and grace, he slung the red silk over his shoulders, holding it closed. He glanced at his Master one more time. The man openly gawked at his concubine’s sudden exit. His mouth flapped open and closed, surely with the intention of saying something (though nothing made it out).

 

Seongwoo gave Daniel one last naughty smile, before turning on his heel to depart, a trail of water dripping in his wake.

 

* * *

 

The concubine shuts his door as quietly as possible, and the instant the lock mechanism clicks into place, his facade of calmness shatters.

 

Seongwoo wrung a hand through his hair as he attempted to calm himself down. Every sensation of Daniel’s body against his had imprinted itself upon him: his well muscled torso serving as a rest, his arms loosely looping around, his fingers softly grazing his concubine’s thighs, the thick, throbbing cock pressing against his back. It utterly possessed Seongwoo’s mind.

 

Heat licked and lapped at Seongwoo’s insides, and he felt powerless to put out the fire. In embarrassing situations like his, he would have typically tried thinking of something repulsive. Daniel’s absolute presence in his thoughts rendered the strategy completely impossible.

 

When the concubine shut his eyes, the only thing he could envision, the only thing his mind’s eyes let him see, was more of Daniel. Dreamy visions invaded his sight, bursts of things that could have been: lips affixing themselves to the concubine’s neck, hands wandering freely, greedily, fingers prodding, teasing-

 

Seongwoo’s eyes shot open.

 

Disgust, shame, and arousal were indistinguishable at this point. He could feel his cock throbbing, begging to be touched, to be satisfied. The torturous pressure coiling inside of him did not ask anything of him, it commanded him. Unable to bear it any longer, Seongwoo threw himself into his bed, letting the silken robe drop to the ground unceremoniously. Just this one time, he told himself. He decided he would allow himself to entertain the very minor, carnal, physically driven fantasy that flickered in the back of his consciousness. Laying down on his back, the concubine let his eyes shut and his hands wander.

 

He let one hand ghost his collarbone, tracing the trail of marks left by his Master’s teeth. The other drifted further down, light touches going down his chest, abdomen, and stopping at his pelvis. He imagined a set of hands that didn’t belong to him exploring. Between two fingers he pinched and pulled a nipple, envisioning a set of plush lips where they were.

 

No longer able to maintain his patience, the concubine took hold of his leaking cock. He inhaled sharply, the mere touch sending a shockwave through his body. He hadn’t realized to what extent his meeting with his Master had wound him up. In tandem with the tension and anger he’d felt boiling up inside of him for days, it made for a drastic. The concubine began stroking himself slowly, and he bit his lip to suppress a gasp.

 

It would have been perfect in the bath; a treacherous voice in Seongwoo’s head unravelled a story before him. He could picture it vividly: his body flush to his Master’s, the King gluttonously grasping and groping with one hand while the other one busied itself stroking his length. Master would grow impatient and grab his hips, lifting him onto his lap. Another quake ran through Seongwoo as his vision became more vivid in front of his shut eyes. Without thinking, his pace quickened, and soon the noise of flesh softly smacking filled the room.

 

It could have happened, the voice said, it would have been so easy. He could have felt his Master’s cock tease and prod his entrance. The thought nearly made Seongwoo mewl. His mind’s eye retraced Daniel’s features; broad shoulders and exquisitely carved muscles, beautiful, long legs, strong arms wrapping around him. The concubine spread his legs for the Master that wasn’t there.

 

Seongwoo had lost control of his thoughts, but he was too aroused to care. The pursuit of pleasure, of release, became his primary concern. He knew that once he came down from his high, once the tension snapped, he would feel deep shame and regret. However, he’d yet to reach that point.

 

Lucid images of the lustful scenario played out further in Seongwoo’s head. The King would push inside and brutally use him for his own pleasure. The concubine’s toes curled and his cock twitched, nearing the edge. His pace grew increasingly erratic as the pressure mounted and mounted upon itself. He wondered what his Master would have thought had he walked in on him in that condition; perhaps he would have taken him then and there and finished the concubine off himself. Would he be upset that his own servant pursued every avenue of pleasure other than him? Or would he be amused?

 

Everything about his fantasies felt perverted and profoundly wrong. It wasn’t lost on him that he got off thinking about the man that stood for everything he despised. He just couldn’t bring himself care. He quickly compartmentalized the intrusive thoughts, reminding himself: this was lust, physical attraction.

 

That lust eventually pushed Seongwoo over the edge.

 

“A-ah!” He let out a choked gasp before snapping his teeth down on his lower lip, smothering any other noise that dare leave his throat. White filled his vision as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through his body. He threw his head back into the pillow and curled his toes. Hot ropes of liquid shot across the concubine’s abdomen, dripping down his stomach. His hips jerked with each twitch of his cock until he’d spent himself.

 

Post pleasure dizziness blurred Seongwoo’s vision. All he could do was lay back and catch his breath. The mural of the stars above him mixed and melded before his bleary eyes until it steadily became more clear. When the concubine tried to sit up, his entire body felt ten times heavier than normal.

 

“Shit…” He muttered under his breath upon seeing the mess he’d made of himself. Just as he’d predicted, guilt slowly trickled into his mind, decorating his cheeks and ears with spots of red. He tried ignoring what he’d just thought about, instead opting to focus on the task of finding something to wipe himself with. After a minute of grogginess, he managed to rouse himself enough to stumble over to his wardrobe.

 

Seongwoo tried to convince himself that the linen kerchief he’d withdrawn was immensely fascinating. He labored intensely to focus on the fine embroidery along the corners of the white fabric as he wiped himself off. When he felt clean enough, he tossed the soiled cloth aside, too tired to care. The concubine became grateful for his complete exhaustion. Passing out was a massively favorable option to thinking about what he’d just done, and he did just that. Seongwoo had scarcely hit the sheets before his eyes sealed themselves shut and he drifted into a deep slumber.

 

* * *

 

“Wake up!” An uproarious woman’s voice jolted Seongwoo awake. He jumped up in a panic, wide eyes shooting to the source of the commotion. Three blurry figures darkened his doorway, and for a moment he wondered if he’d been summoned for a surprise execution.

 

“This is possibly the best morning I’ve ever had in the castle,” A second voice said with a giggle. Ong rubbed the sleep out of his eyes to get a better picture of who he was dealing with.

 

“The King should have a painting made of you.” The third person cooed. Over the concubine stood the three maids: Eunji, Namjoo, and Hayoung. Eunji stood in the middle gayly brandishing a bottle of wine. Namjoo waved around three modest goblets in her hands, and Hayoung just looked happy to be there. Very, very happy to be there.

 

“Wh… Why are you… What’s happening?” Seongwoo slurred, still a tad too tired to properly analyze his situation. He yawned, stretching, and he swore he heard a couple of gasps from the direction of the maids were standing in. “Have I won something? A title, perhaps? Oh- Wait- Don’t tell me,” Ong joked, “This entire ordeal has been an elaborate hoax and you’re here to tell me I can resume my previous life now.”

 

“A valiant effort, but not quite, concubine.” Eunji laughed. “Though, before we converse any further, may I request that you… Cover up a bit?”

 

“Wh- Eunji!” Hayoung threw her hands up, “How could you?!”

 

“You’re no fun at all,” Namjoo concurred.

 

Seongwoo remained static for a few seconds as his brain digested the incredibly loud words coming at him so quickly. Slowly, he looked down at himself, and his jaw dropped in terror. He had just remembered that he’d fallen asleep without any sort of sleeping clothes. Thankfully, he hadn’t flung his blankets so far as to completely expose himself, but the red sheets ventured dangerously low on his pelvis. The concubine quickly gathered his sheets up, pulling them up his shoulders with haste; the girls giggled.

 

“What happened to being a God fearing girl?” Eunji teased. The girls tittered happily, defending their honors gallantly.

 

“Um, if I may,” Seongwoo said, interrupting their chatter, “I apologize if it rude of me to ask but… Why are we yelling in my room early in the morning?”

 

“Wh- Oh, right, we came here to tell you ourselves,” Eunji beamed, “We are toasting,” She grabbed one of the goblets from Namjoo and began pouring wine, “To your first hunting trip with his royal highness King Daniel!” She held the pewter goblet out with an animated flair.

 

Though Seongwoo typically favored tea in the morning, he liked to exercise good etiquette; denying a generously poured cup of wine seemed to be the opposite of good etiquette in his humble opinion. He reached out and took a sip, face scrunching as the bitter liquid stung his throat. Abruptly, Eunji’s words truly sunk in.

 

“Wait- My first- What?!”

 

“Seongwoo,” Eunji said proudly, sipping a goblet she’d poured for herself, “You’ve cheated death since the day you got here. Despite your various indiscretions, you’ve charmed your way into getting what you want. No violence, no nasty behavior, just… Using the charms that God gave you. And for that we are proud, aren’t we girls?” Namjoo and Hayoung chirped in agreement, sipping from their own goblets.

 

“Wh… I’m still confused. What- what happened?” Seongwoo stuttered. He held his hand up as the gears in his head churned, “Did- did I win?”

 

“Yes.” Eunji huffed satirically, “You won. This time. Very early this morning I got word that someone was to be measured later today for new clothes. Hunting clothes. You’re to be fitted for some leathers and waxed pieces later. When I’d gotten the news I _had_ to gather the girls and tell you myself.”

 

“Will you not get in trouble if you’re found cavorting in my room with wine at this hour? Don’t you have work?”

 

Eunji waved her hand dismissively, “And exactly who would they report me to? Myself? Anyways, most of the nobles are either eating breakfast or snoozing the daylight away. Those who are conscious probably wouldn’t see me regardless of what I chose to do with my morning. We may as well be invisible to most.” She shrugged.

 

“Well you are most visible to me,” Seongwoo said, drinking a tad more of his wine.

 

“And you to us,” Namjoo giggled, earning a jab in the ribs from Eunji’s elbow.

 

“Alright, alright, off with you two,” Eunji barked at the younger girls.

 

“What? But we’ve just arrived.” “Eunji!”

 

“I’ll be having none of that,” Eunji said, placing a hand on her hip. “I told you two you could help me wake him, and you’ve done just that. Now go on,” She waved them away. The two younger girls heaved heavy sighs before walking off with exaggerated pouts on their faces. They left their goblets on one of the room’s ornamental tables before shutting the door behind them.

 

“What’s this about?” Seongwoo asked, eyeing the door. Eunji set her goblet down on his bedside table before perching at the edge of the cushiony mattress.

 

“To be truthful,” She said, “I wanted to know how you’re faring. How you are _truly_ faring not… Not some strong face you put on to assure those around you don’t worry.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

 

“Of course you do.” Eunji cut him off. “I am aware that you and I have not known each other for a long time. Truthfully we’ve rarely spoken, yet… I see this quality in you. You are strong and you are kind. People like that do not wish to see others fuss over them or worry. So they put on a mask and write off even the most awful of things as mere inconveniences.”

 

Seongwoo tilted his head curiously. Eunji’s sudden, serious expression surprised him. He also had to commend her skills of observation. She was fairly close to the mark, if not spot on. Ong deplored inconveniencing others, especially those close to him. The last thing he wanted was to drag those around him into his personal battles, and he certainly didn’t need anyone to fight those fights for him.

 

Or so he’d thought.

 

He supposed that his previous approach to life’s struggles was fitting when he had agency over his own fate; however, as a concubine, he had to rely on others despite how much he abhorred it. Ultimately, that fact only served to further dissuade him from disclosing his own personal turmoil with any of the people he’d already spent the past weeks inconveniencing.

 

Eunji pressed the concubine, “Seongwoo.” She said in an almost matronly tone, crossing her arms.

 

“I…” He looked at her, ready to weave a reasonable web of words, something believable that would corroborate her assertions.

 

“What causes you to sound so certain?” Seongwoo asked instead.

 

“Because,” The older woman chuckled, “I am the same way.”

 

Seongwoo sighed in defeat. Though he had no intention of giving Eunji a teary-eyed account of his life story, he decided to concede, just ever so slightly. He deemed her worthy of his honesty, even if he only granted a sliver.

 

“To be honest,” Ong started, carefully considering his words, “I… Do not know if I’m okay. I… Don’t think I am.” He turned to her with a shrug. It was the truth, albeit a rather simplified version of it. He endeavored to find a way to describe how he felt, rambling on, “In… In the moment, I feel alright. Everything seems fine as it happens, but then I look back and- and I remember why I am here and…” The faces of those he’d met during his time in the castle reeled across his mind; some good, some bad, some with evil intention and some benevolent, a few, a very small few, he called friends.

 

“I don’t know,” Seongwoo repeated. “This place used to fill me with- with ire and resentment. Yet now, I- I’ve not been here very long, yet… It no longer makes me angry to walk the halls.”

 

Eunji rubbed Seongwoo’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort, “It upsets you? Not being angry?” Seongwoo turned to look her in the eye and nodded.

 

“I’m afraid.” He admitted. “I’m afraid I shall lose myself here; that I’ll forget who- who I am and where I came from.”

 

I am afraid that I will find some sort of happiness here.

 

Those were words he thought but did not dare utter; for he feared it would make them come to fruition. It dawned on the concubine that he’d already grown fond of a few people in the castle. The thought of leaving, knowing nothing of them or their fates, started to scare him more than he wanted to think.

 

“Oh, Seongwoo…” Eunji frowned, pulling the still undressed, half asleep man into a hug. “Just because you have found a silver lining on the clouds that dim your life doesn’t mean you’ve adopted a new identity. You cannot stew and fester in your own bitterness forever. You could make yourself sick if you live in perpetual stress or- or worse, you get yourself killed if you lash out!

 

As for your fear that you will grow complacent... Please, spare me!” She rolled her eyes and chuckled, “You are the least satisfied person I know of. You could be given the title of Duke right this second, and you’d probably still question why they didn’t crown you King... And then punch Duke Hwang in the face, just because you could.” She quirked an eyebrow, giving a little grin in hopes that her jest would lighten the mood. A tiny smile tickled the edges of Seongwoo’s lips.

 

“You lot aren’t going to let go of that punch, are you?”

 

“Not for decades, no.” Eunji shook her head. That statement broke Ong’s stony exterior, and he laughed, a large grin blossoming across his face.

 

“Perhaps you are right, Eunji.” He replied. “However… If you start seeing me swoon over his highness like Guanlin does over the General, please do me the honor of punching _me_ in the face.”

 

“It sounds like incredibly taxing labor, however, if I must take the burden…” The maid bowed exaggeratedly, “I shall do so with honor and duty.” The two laughed happily and wordlessly agreed to steer the conversation toward more lighthearted ground.

 

Eunji informed Seongwoo of the travel details (at least, what she’d heard from the others): they were to leave the day after next at dawn, travel the day, and reach their destination late that night. He would be outfitted with a new pair of boots, a waxed cloak, two leather doublets and some thicker shirts and breeches for his travels. Concubines weren’t armed for hunting trips, but they were often tasked with assisting their masters with reloading. She told him that she’d heard the villa was wonderful, seated in the middle of a beautiful forest, and that he needed the fresh air.

 

The two went off on a few more tangents before Seongwoo decided he ought to get dressed and bathe before the ateliers came looking for him. Eunji agreed and dismissed herself, giving Seongwoo a tight hug before venturing off to yell at some lower ranked staff, no doubt. When he was finally left alone, Seongwoo sighed. He put his goblet down on the table next to his bed so he could fully commit to laying down for a few more minutes.

 

He idly stared at his ceiling. Thoughts swam and swirled inside of him, but nothing quite prevailed. Everything felt so complex yet stupidly simple at the same time. His emotions had gotten the best of him since he’d arrived at the castle. Not only did they push him to act in ways he wouldn’t dream of, but they told him things, truths that his brain fiercely disagreed with. As a result of the dissonance, he remained in a strange state of limbo: constantly compromised but deluded into believing he has some sort of control. Soon, the circuitous rambles wading around in his mind stopped making sense altogether, and Ong decided that was his cue to get up and commit to some sort of concrete action.

 

He elected to fix his mind on the hunting trip. Perhaps, he thought, there would be an opening for him there. He wasn’t sure what kind of opening he was looking for; perhaps it would be violent, perhaps it would be diplomatic. He figured that he would know when he found it.

 

Until then, he decided: he needed to try his best to behave and bide his time.


	17. To the Villa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 17 WARNING(s): explicit language

The earth laid still beneath the yet unilluminated indigo sky. Moonlight dwindled as the heavenly body dipped in the sky, making way for the sun in its wake.  The wind did not dare disturb even a single blade of grass. Not even the worms who found themselves targets of the fabled “early bird” had yet emerged from the ground. Creature and person alike remained rooted in the surreal visions of their dreams, soon to be woken by the rising sun. The veil of stillness that shrouded the land seemed almost tangible yet impossibly delicate. Like a bubble, it could pop at any second if agitated even slightly.

 

Thankfully for the more fortunate courtiers of Castle Jeon, the walls were thick and robust. Had they not been, their pleasant bubbles would have been popped entirely too early. A few levels beneath them, in the castle’s arteries, servants scrambled about frantically in last-minute preparations for a very important trip.

 

“Where are the bolts? Where are the bolts?!” “They’re right here!” “Those aren’t the right ones.” “One, two, three, four… That covers the performers.” “-And two barrels of the red. No- wait- one barrel of the red and two of the white? Wait- I can’t read this handwriting-” “Stop it! Stop it! Down boy, down! A puppy like you isn’t big enough to draw birds-” “Where are the bolts?!” “Ow! Watch how you’re carrying that dagger, you dolt!” “Who put the harp here?” “You idiot, the bolts have been in your hand this whole time!”

 

Loosely organized chaos reigned in the loading area just off of the west wing. Castle Jeon’s courtiers were due to depart shortly after the sun rose; this tasked the servants with assuring everything had been loaded, the carriages readied, and the horses reigned in at least an hour prior. Consequently, they’d been stirred from bed hours before the sun even thought of peeking over the horizon.

 

Bodies with arms full of luggage, adornment for the carriages, and equipment shuffled about; many yelled at one another which resulted in a cacophonous mingling of shouted conversations. No doubt among them was one of the castle’s head maids, Jung Eunji.

 

“What- What the hell are you doing with those?!” Eunji yelled at a young man carrying sheathed scimitars, “They’re hunting game, not people.” She waved him away angrily, demanding he take them back to the west armory. “You!” She pointed to another person, a young girl chasing a goose around, “Why are they still alive?! They were supposed to be dead”

 

“I can’t catch them,” The young girl shrugged, before running off after one of the honking creatures. Eunji rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

 

“Eunji,” Another girl approached.

 

“Namjoo, good morning,” Eunji replied.

 

“Morning? No, no. Morning is when the birds are chirping and the sun starts to let its light into the sky. This? This is hell.”

 

“It’s not that early. You act as if this is your first day here. You’ve done this countless times,” Eunji laughed.

 

“Yet it never gets easier,” Namjoo groaned.

 

“Is that what you’ve come here to tell me?”

 

“N-no, ma’am!” Despite her sleepiness, the younger maid straightened up. “I’ve come with your requested semi-hourly status report!”

 

Eunji nodded,“Excellent. Please tell me some-” An eruption of goose honks interrupted her momentarily, “-some good news.” She finished.

 

“Yes, well. The musician’s wardrobe and personal belongings have been sorted and loaded as are most of their instruments. In regards to the Duke’s guests, here is an updated list of the carriages that have been packed,” She handed her superior a slip of paper noting nobles whose belongings had been loaded. “As for the Duke’s things, the staff he brought is managing his personal effects. That leaves a few instruments, food and wine… A few of the guests left packing to the last minute, so their affairs are to be put in order.” A few more goose honks and some yelling sounded out. Eunji sighed exasperatedly but managed to keep her head in the conversation.

 

“Did you speak to the stable head? Have we all our coachmen ready? Fed? Awake?”

 

“They were running around when I stopped by half an hour ago. A few seemed to have been roused, but I believe some preferred to sleep in.”

 

“Lazy bastards,” Eunji huffed, “Assure that they are awake and dressed in no less than an hour.” She raised her voice to address the entire loading bay, “And that goes for all of you! They leave at dawn, people! Dawn! We have less than two hours until the sun enters the sky, and if every carriage and piece of luggage and horse and- everything! If everything isn’t in perfect order by then, it’ll be all of our asses on a stick. Do you hear me?” A choir of frightened sounding “Yes, ma’am”s could be heard in response.

 

“I bet in another life, you were a queen Miss Eunji,” Namjoo grinned.

 

“Who’s to say I’m not one now?” The head maid joked. She lowered her voice and turned to Namjoo, her tone growing more serious, “Namjoo, what of the King’s things? His affairs? Is everything in order.”

 

Namjoo nodded in earnest, “Of course. I’ve given extra attention to the King’s articles.”

 

“Good. And Seongwoo? His new things are packed? Did you make sure they put in the extra wools? I know that was last second, but it’s important he remains warm. Winter could make one last stubborn standoff one of these days.”

 

“Yes, of course! I adore Seongwoo, and he’s consort to the King. It would be unacceptable if anything had been missed for him.”

 

“Right, yes- I apologize, it’s just I… I worry about him,” Eunji admitted.

 

“Well, I think it’ll be splendid for him,” Namjoo replied. “He can get out of the castle, breathe in some fresh air, and-” She wiggled her eyebrows, “-spend some quality time with the King.”

 

“Namjoo, please, stop projecting your fantasies onto him.”

 

“Wh- Come on. None of  _ us  _ can get close to a King, can’t we live through him? Just a little?”

 

“No,” Eunji said flatly.

 

“Oh, fine. No fun allowed.” Namjoo grumbled. “Still, you needn’t worry about Seongwoo, I reckon. He’s good with words and so long as he doesn’t punch anyone I believe he ought to be fine.”

 

“I suppose you’re right. I guess I just can’t help worrying. I think of the worst things such as: what if they try and kill each other?”

 

“That’s very sweet of you, but…” Namjoo pointed to the ground, “I think you ought to worry about that more right now.”

 

Eunji quirked an eyebrow. She hadn’t noticed anything strange about the ground due to the hardy shoes she’d worn, but upon looking down she realized what Namjoo had referred to. 

 

Her face pinched into an expression of indignation, and she yelled, “ _ Why _ am I standing in an ocean of wine?!”

 

* * *

 

“Wake up, wake up!” An excited whisper permeated the cloud of sleep that hazed General Park Jihoon’s ears.

 

“Mn…” The General roused slightly; ultimately, he merely dug his face more deeply into his feather pillow.

 

“Master! Master wake up, it’s time!” Enthusiasm oozed from the person speaking into the General’s ears.

 

“Mmm… What’s time?” Jihoon slurred out sleepily. He stretched, slowly taking in one waking sensation at a time. Beneath him: a soft goose feather bed, thrown over him: a warm down coverlet. Wrapped around him: an entirely too zealous yet infinitely charming boy.

 

The boy in question hugged the General closer, kissing the back of his head before responding, “We’re going to Duke Hwang’s today!”

 

Jihoon blinked, gradually erasing the bleariness from his vision. He squinted and looked out the window of his bedroom.

 

“Is it… Is it day? Still looks dark to me.” The General mumbled. 

 

“Well, it’s  _ almost  _ day. The sun will be up in a couple of hours.”

 

“Linlin… I…” Jihoon felt at a loss for words. Normally, he’d despise his sleep being interrupted so early; but, he found it completely impossible to be upset at his Guanlin. He always had. “Good morning, Guanlin.” He said, exaggeratedly defeated.

 

Guanlin merely giggled in satisfaction. The concubine nuzzled the back of his Master’s neck, a wide, toothy grin blossoming across his lips. 

 

“I’m sorry,” He cooed dramatically to show just how little remorse he had.

 

“You’re so annoying!” Jihoon replied sarcastically.

 

“You love it.”

 

“Speaking so contemptuously to your Master?” The General turned onto his other side so he could directly face his concubine. “I do not tolerate such bad behavior.” Jihoon said, caressing Guanlin’s cheek, “I demand you pay penance, lest you face an unspeakable punishment.”

 

Guanlin gazed at his Master for a moment with monumental affection, “Then for my penance,” He said, “I shall pay you in one hundred kisses.”

 

Jihoon couldn’t stop himself from smiling, “I suppose that ought to be adequate. One hundred is quite a lot, so I suggest you start immedia-” He barely uttered his last few words before Guanlin’s lip pressed against his. The General laughed into the kiss, completely unsurprised by his concubine’s impatience.

 

“One,” Guanlin whispered after they parted. Jihoon melted a bit internally and the adorable boy in front of him.

 

“If that was just one kiss, we will be in bed all day in order for you to pay your penance.”

 

“If it were any other day, I would see nothing wrong with that,” Guanlin punctuated the thought with a peck on his Master’s nose. He followed it with one on Jihoon’s cheek, then placed a few more delicately across the other’s jawline. He continued, “But today we’re leaving for the hunting trip, and we can’t miss that.”

 

“What about hunting excites you so?” Jihoon chuckled, idly tracing shapes on Guanlin’s cheek, “Do you have a secret obsession I didn’t know about?”

 

“Yes,” Guanlin answered. He pressed his lips against Jihoon’s again before saying: “You.”

 

“Well, in that case, you’re awful at keeping secrets.” Jihoon laced his fingers in Guanlin’s hair, drawing their faces flush into a deep kiss.

 

The General’s day to day life could be described as busy, stressful, and even somber. Matters of war, tactics, and diplomacy took a toll on one’s being. Secretly, Jihoon always feared that one day his occupation would gradually drain the happiness from his life until nothing was left. He felt afraid that one day he would wake up and face even daily life with the indifference he adopted for the battlefield.

 

Then along came Guanlin. Pure, kindhearted, loving Guanlin.

 

Jihoon so distinctly remembered the first time he met Guanlin. The young boy had been shivering, covered in soot and rubble, his rich clothes in tatters. Jihoon had intended to wipe that plot of land to the east clean, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d always liked taking souvenirs from his tours, but never were they living, breathing people. Guanlin had been sitting, Jihoon recalled; the boy had been ready, awaiting his fate. The General had burst into the room ready to kill, but he’d been stopped in his tracks.

 

A single look was all it had taken.

 

One look from Guanlin, a teary gaze, had completely dismantled every defense mechanism Jihoon had labored years to put into place. The military officer felt shameful just thinking about it, how the sword in his hand fell to the ground with a clang, how he’d dropped to his knees. The look in Guanlin’s eyes had reminded him of something very, very dear to him; he’d completely lost the will, the capability to hurt the cowering boy.

 

The General had reached out with a shaky hand and wiped a single tear from the boy’s cheek.

 

He remembered how shy Guanlin had been at first, so hesitant and frightened. Jihoon had treated Guanlin with more care and patience than he probably had anything else in his life. He’d cleaned him and fed him and slowly taught him how to communicate. Watching the boy blossom from being scared and nervous into the glowing, bubbly person in front of him made Jihoon immeasurably happy.

 

“What number of kisses is that?” Guanlin murmured when they separated for air.

 

“I think we’ve lost count,” Jihoon replied, short of breath. 

 

“Will we have to start over?”

 

“We very well may.”

 

“How bothersome,” Guanlin said, eyeing Jihoon with admiration before diving once more. Their kiss gradually deepened; Jihoon lapped at Guanlin’s plush lips, and Guanlin gladly opened up to allow his Master entrance. Their tongues lazily brushed against one another as they nuzzled noses. Jihoon felt a happy buzz tingle throughout his body. Their limbs tangled together as the two relished in one another with a lackadaisical pace.

 

Eventually, the two broke apart again, exchanging adoring looks. Jihoon watched on as Guanlin rambled about the dream he’d had and his anticipation for their travels again. He found it almost mesmerizing to watch the beautiful boy speak. 

 

“...And oh! I learned a new word just yesterday.”

 

“Oh?” Jihoon’s mind reentered the conversation.

 

“Well it’s more of a term, but I learned ‘nocking point’- I can even write it!”

 

Jihoon beamed, “Look at you! That’s quite a technical term, isn’t it? When did you start learning about archery?”

 

“Well, Seongwoo- his highness’s ward- he was reading this book called of ‘The Art of the Bow’ and I practiced a bit with it.”

 

The happy buzz Jihoon felt dulled, “Seongwoo…” He frowned. “Yes, him.”

 

“Master? Why the frown? I- I know what you must think of him, but he is really nice, I promise!”

 

“Do you see him around often or just occasionally?”

 

Guanlin’s easy smile faltered slightly at the line of inquiry, “I see him fairly often… What makes you so curious about him? If you have questions about him, I can probably tell you-”

 

“No.” Jihoon cut him off abruptly. “No, that’s alright.” He tried to smooth over his sharp interjection.

 

The General took to stroking his concubine’s cheek once more and continued talking, “Guanlin, I… I worry about you. I think of you, I really do. Now- I am not going to go so far as to dictate who you can and cannot speak to, but It troubles me knowing you associate with him. Please, promise me you will not act in such a way that I’d need to lock you in your room for days.”

 

“Master, I would never.”

 

“Good.” Jihoon gave his ward a loving smile, “You are perfect the way you are, Guanlin. I just… In truth, I fear that one day you may change, and I will wonder what happened to the boy I hold so dearly.”

 

“Master, I promise you, I will always be your Linlin.”

 

“I shall hold you to that,” Jihoon replied. He pressed his forehead against the other’s before the two tangled lips and limb once more. Even with his beloved concubine wrapped in his arms, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel a tinge of vexation.

 

That other concubine was starting to get on his nerves.

 

* * *

 

Despite the fact that the sun had just hardly begun cresting the horizon, courtiers crowded the castle’s grand entrance. Conversation buzzed as the few privileged nobles that had been invited on the trip began filing out from the castle doors. Though many people came and went, when the King was involved, any departure devolved into a sort of spectacle. Even servants dared poke their heads out the windows to gawk at the extravagantly dressed people ready to set out on their (relatively short) voyage. 

 

Duke Choi strode down the aisle between onlookers in a dazzling pink ensemble with servants in tow. A lord and lady departed soon after, in complimentary emerald green coordinates. A brief parade of sorts ensued as more and more noble people followed. Horse hooves clacked as each wagon rolled off to begin the day’s morning. Their friends who hadn’t been so fortunate as to receive an invitation wished them well, waving and hollering goodbyes. 

 

Among them was Prince Daehwi, looking stately as ever; his concubine stood next to him not unlike a finely sculpted statue. The Prince nodded politely, giving each person departing a courteous smile and a blessing as they left. 

 

“General Park,” Prince Daehwi grinned at the familiar face, “May God bless your journey. Both of yours,” He turned to Guanlin who’d taken a place behind his Master. The General and his ward bowed, the concubine more deeply than the other.

 

“And his blessing unto you,” Jihoon replied when he’d straightened up, “Please know that I can make the trip back in half a day’s ride if needed. Should anything happen, anything at all, please send for me.”

 

“The sentiment is much appreciated, however, I believe we ought to be quite alright. You lot are gone for mere days. Regardless- I will keep you consideration in mind. Thank you.”

 

“It’s my duty to protect our Kingdom.”

 

“And you have done a wonderful job. Now go have fun!”

 

Jihoon nodded. He gave the Prince a smile before looping his arm around Guanlin’s waist and guiding him to the carriage. The General extended his hand to help his concubine up the step before stepping into the lavishly crafted coach. The coachman made haste, quickly shutting the door behind his superior and hopping into the seat up front. Soon the four bay horses at the head whinnied and the wheels started turning. 

 

The racket among the crowd died down abruptly, and heads turned to the entrance of the castle. His Highness, King Daniel, had arrived. The young King wore his mask of regality well as he walked cooly toward his ornate coach. Behind him, his concubine looked equally aloof, surprisingly so. He did not grimace or sneer, though his eyes did wander. The two stopped in front of Prince Daehwi.

 

“Cousin,” Daehwi said, bowing respectfully to the King, “May God give you blessings for a safe and happy journey.”

 

“And may he give his blessings unto you.” Daniel smiled back.

 

“Thank you, your highness.” The Prince turned to the concubine, “And to you as well. May he give you strength and protection.”

 

“Thank you, your highness.” Seongwoo bowed deeply.

 

“One more thing,” The Prince added, “I hope you have the most wonderful time! Bring back a fresh kill and tell us all about it.” He clapped giddily. The King and his concubine both thanked the Prince once more before bidding a polite farewell. 

 

Nobles of all rank and stature hooted and hollered after the King, throwing blessings left and right as he and his concubine ascended the boot into the rich, ornate coach. Seongwoo managed to catch Yeri mouthing “have fun” to him before stepping in behind the noble. Castle Jeon’s well-wishers continued waving and yelling their goodbyes after the carriage until they appeared to be the size of flies in the distance. 

 

The concubine stuck his nose as close to the glass of the window as possible, watching the castle shrink away. He’d dreamed of the image many times: the sight of the Castle disappearing into the distance. Unfortunately, unlike his visions, he would soon be returning; to this, he had resigned himself.

 

The other alternative was far less appealing; that was to be returned to the Earth as a corpse buried beneath the dirt.

 

* * *

 

His highness had fallen asleep almost immediately. Seongwoo didn’t pay the man much mind; the book he clutched in his hands remained undisturbed for the first few hours. The outdoors distracted him too much, a strange mix of nerves and excitement beginning to blend inside of him. 

 

The thought of jumping out of the coach had occurred to the concubine more than once, but the not so alluring image of being buried or bound kept him seated. At the very least he commended the royal craftspeople for doing a splendid job outfitting the carriage for comfort. Every surface had been upholstered in fine velvets and damask brocades. Each side of the carriage had been outfitted with enough cushions that, if combined together, they could easily form a large bed. They’d been given blankets and packed an assortment of cured meats, pickled vegetables, and dried fruits. Though all of these luxuries were incredibly pleasant to Seongwoo, he still considered the thing in front of him the most pleasant.

 

His unconscious Master;  _ unconscious  _ being the operative factor.

 

The concubine snuck a glance at the man across from him. He’d done that a few times throughout the trip, mostly due to the other man making some kind of a noise or thrashing about. He imagined that his highness did not feel very rested after waking up from a night of turning and chattering. It had initially unsettled Seongwoo, but after hour two (or perhaps it’d been three, Seongwoo had lost track) he’d gotten used to it.

 

Seongwoo had successfully avoided his Master’s gaze for the past few days. Not once had he encountered the man in the halls, and their bedchambers’ partition remained closed. It almost surprised him that he hadn’t seen King Daniel considering how close they’d gotten; no doubt, that had ultimately come to him as a massive relief. The concubine couldn’t help his eyes from drifting toward the slumbering royal.

 

King Daniel did not look like a King at all when he slept. He looked like a child. His blanket had been tangled and twisted between his limbs, and his plush lips hung open. Even though the man was larger than Seongwoo in stature and height, he looked so small, curled up in his corner of the coach.

 

The more thought Seongwoo gave it, the more the comparison between King Daniel and a child seemed fitting. He was volatile and exceedingly sensitive. He’d demonstrated the ease with which he could be swayed many times. Rifling through his recollections, Ong struggled to think of a time the mad had asserted himself; the only one that came to mind was when he had stricken the concubine. Typical, Seongwoo thought, for a child to lash out at a target that they knew could not retaliate.

 

A tiny spark in his mind lit up.

 

He remembered: he’d never figured out what exactly had happened to Queen Somi. The hearsay that had reached his ears so far, far away insisted that the King had done it.

 

Did he?

 

Seongwoo began to ponder. He looked at the peacefully sleeping King and wondered: was this man capable of murder? If he so craved power, as someone who opted to kill a royal would, why did he so terribly mishandle it? Half of the court (from what Seonwoo had overheard) held some sort of disdain toward their King. Many disrespected him, some more openly than others, and most doubted his abilities. Despite the fact that the Kang Kingdom seemed to be in a rather prosperous era, people still lacked confidence in the man. Assuming he had killed Somi, had he anticipated that nobility would be so contemptuous toward him?

 

Or, perhaps, it was all an act. A clever ruse formulated to deceive his court into thinking that he lacked a spine. But to what end? As far as Seongwoo had seen, he  _ did  _ lack a spine. Nothing his highness had done as King necessarily served himself on a personal level exceptionally. Maybe being supreme ruler wasn’t what he had anticipated in his prior life. Had he been power hungry before? If so, Ong did not see a trace of it.

 

The concubine thought in circles, asking himself the same questions: Why would Daniel kill Somi, if not for power? Did he kill her at all? If not him, then who? 

  
Seongwoo sighed vexedly; he watched his Master sleep, no less confused than he had been before.

 

* * *

 

“-and a three card flush! Ha!” Sungwoon threw his cards down triumphantly; the four, five, and six cards faced up on the concubine’s lap. The two rocked slightly with as their carriage hit a small bump.

 

Jisung groaned, “You are cheating- You are cheating!” He dropped his miscellaneous collection of low numbered cards in defeat. 

 

“You always say that when you’re losing.”

 

“You always cheat.”

 

“And you always lose.”

 

“I do not. Need I remind you of the time-”

 

“The time you won that round of flor with the King and that one duchess was there- yes, I remember. You remind me often. Every time we play cards, in fact.”

 

Advisor to the King, Yoon Jisung, and his ward, Ha Sungwoon had taken up a riveting game of Cacho a few hours prior. Though they liked cards, the game could only entertain them for so long; Sungwoon could tell that Jisung was nearing the end of his wits.

 

“I think we’ve had enough of this,” Sungwoon stated, swiping the cards away from the Advisor before he could insist they play “just one more round”.

 

“Next time.” Jisung commented though he did nothing to stop Sungwoon, “Next time your ass is mine.”

 

“My ass is already yours, darling,” Sungwoon punctuated the thought by wiggling his eyebrows. Jisung lightly smacked his shoulder.

 

“Must you always be so profane?”

 

“Interesting. I did not hear any complaints about my profanity this morning.”

 

Jisung snapped his mouth shut, pouting in a melodramatic manner. After he had contented himself with theatrics, he reached for the basket of food that had been packed for them prior and opened it.  He grabbed a small chunk of cheese wrapped in cloth, extending it to his concubine. When Sungwoon politely declined, he shrugged and began speaking again.

 

“Speaking of profanity, how’s that little project of yours?” He asked before putting a bite in his mouth.

 

“My project?” Sungwoon’s brows knit together in confusion momentarily, “Oh, Seongwoo. Why so curious?”

 

“Well, firstly, we still have hours left on this trip. Secondly… I don’t know. He’s a rather curious creature, isn’t he?”

 

Sungwoon shrugged. He figured that to him it was easy to think of Seongwoo as just another concubine; to outsiders, he probably looked enigmatic. He didn’t speak much or lounge with courtiers like many nobles. He constantly misbehaved and walked around with a vaguely contemptuous air about him. Having spoken to him, Sungwoon could at least somewhat see where the man’s perspective came from. To those who had been born and raised in castle walls, it was understandable that he seemed odder.

 

“He’s different,” Sungwoon conceded with a shrug, “Not too curious, really. Just not exactly thrilled to be in his position.”

 

“Does he realize how lucky he is? Many would kill to be concubine to a King, let alone one as gentle as Daniel-”

 

“No, he doesn’t. Ending up in the King’s possession is not what a previously free man considers a lucky break!” Sungwoon surprised himself. He’d raised his voice without intending to and stood up for Seongwoo’s perspective, one he had questioned himself.

 

“I’m merely stating that it could be worse,” Jisung shrugged, mostly unmoved by Sungwoon’s spike in passion. The two had had their squabbles many times, and the concubine versus noble dichotomy was often a central topic of them.

 

“It could be a whole lot better, too.” Sungwoon huffed, crossing his arms. He scooted away from Jisung slightly. “Not everyone is as lucky as me.” He added to smooth the tension a bit.

 

Jisung sighed, “I could say the same as well,” He gave Sungwoon a soft, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. You… Are right. He did not come voluntarily nor was he requested nicely by a herald or a messenger. He was taken.” The advisor frowned.

 

Sungwoon sulked,“Had he been gifted to any other noble in the castle, perhaps we could have petitioned for some kind of release. But, his highness, the King…”

 

“You couldn’t pry your project from his cold, dead hands, I reckon.”

 

“Oh?” Sungwoon quirked an eyebrow, “You see it too?”

 

“See what?”

 

“The soft spot, you dolt,” Sungwoo chuckled.

 

“Quite a funny name for a hard-on.” Jisung shrugged, smirking. He earned a slap from the man next to him.

 

“You know exactly what I mean.”

 

“Of course I do.” Jisung glanced at Sungwoon with fondness, “Who better of all people to recognize the feeling of falling so deeply for someone you aren’t allowed to have.”

 

Sungwoon rolled his eyes. He resented the blush that tinted his cheeks and ears a faint pink. Him and Jisung had been together for years, yet the man still managed to make him feel dizzy and gleeful like a teenage girl. When he turned to reply, Jisung had closed the gap between their faces. 

 

Before the concubine could speak any further, his lips were busied with something else, someone else. His eyes fluttered shut, and he melted into the man next to him. For a few minutes, the only sounds they heard were the turning of wagon wheels and the soft smacking of their lips.

 

When the two finally separated, Sungwoon mumbled, “What were we talking about?”

 

“I don’t know,” Jisung muttered before bringing their lips together once more.

 

* * *

 

Ringing bells resound in the night air. It started with the carriage in the front of the caravan, then the one behind it, and the one behind it. Sequentially the coachmen signaled to all who traveled that their destination was near. 

 

Seongwoo stirred with a yawn. He hadn’t even realized that he’d fallen asleep. When he’d last looked outside, the sun had begun sinking beneath the horizon, but its rays still bathed the earth in light. Now the window of the coach looked like a canvas painted solid black. The concubine rubbed his eyes, squinting out the window to try distinguishing his surroundings. As he focused, he could just barely make out trees shifting and blurring as they passed them. Torchlight occasionally flickered through ahead of them, flames of the carriages ahead of them in the winding path. 

 

Seongwoo glanced at his Master momentarily, surprised to see the man awake. He hadn’t seen the King awake throughout the entirety of the day’s trip. It almost impressed him. God had graciously spared him hours of awkwardness, and for that sliver of grace, the concubine felt grateful. 

 

The King looked out the window wordlessly as the travel party closed in on the Duke’s villa. If he noticed his concubine waking up, he didn’t acknowledge it. The concubine opted to maintain their silence, his eyes returning out the window. As Samuel had told him, the woods were thick; Ong could barely see anything even when his eyes started recognizing shapes in the dark. It likely made for an ideal animal habitat and unideal hunting ground, the concubine thought.

 

After ten or so minutes, the trees finally stopped. There was no thinning out or gradualness to it; there were trees, then there were not. The caravan proceeded into a vast clearing, at at the center of the clearing like a hidden crown jewel stood Duke Hwang’s villa. Lights in the window made it almost appear as an amalgamation of ghostly wisps floating in the moonlight. Soon more concrete shapes took form in the dark: long, stately pillars holding up curved arches, shaped hedges symmetrically surrounding the structure. Though in size it was dwarfed by Castle Jeon, the Duke’s Villa was still impressive in its own right. Its architecture seemed to have influences taken from the southeast, it looked more geometric and based on symmetry than Castle Jeon’s rococo opulence.

 

As they approached the entrance, Seongwoo could see an aisle of torches erected from the ground; people stood on each side. The carriage slowed down, and soon guests began stepping out of their coaches. When the King’s coach finally reached the entrance, the coachman hopped down from his seat to open the door. When it swung open, the gust of chilly night air made a shiver run down the concubine’s back. Suddenly, nerves began buzzing about in his chest.

 

King Daniel stepped out gracefully despite his long legs being no doubt cramped. Seongwoo followed, always keeping a step behind him. In front of them, at the end of the aisle of torches, stood Duke Hwang with a few unfamiliar faces. He greeted each passing noble, shaking hands and giving thanks.

 

“Your highness,” Duke Hwang bowed elegantly. “Welcome back to the villa.”

 

Daniel nodded, “Thank you for having us all. I look forward to a splendid weekend.”

 

“As do I,” The Duke smiled, gesturing toward the open door of the manor behind him. His highness nodded politely and returned the smile. He strolled onward, and Ong followed. As the concubine passed their host, he deliberately fixed his gaze forward. He hoped that the Duke had forgotten about his existence, and did not dare check to verify his wishful assertion.

 

Once they stepped in, a butler greeted them, offering to take their cloaks. He informed them that their things were to be taken to their quarters and that in the meanwhile there were drinks and cards for the nobles.

 

When Seongwoo moved to follow the King, the butler held up a hand, “You,” He said pointedly to the concubine, “Are to have a brief tour with the others like you.” He gestured to a small gathering of what Ong assumed were other concubines; he recognized a few familiar faces. Ong looked to his Master who merely nodded to dismiss him. The concubine refrained from letting out a sigh of relief as he walked over toward the others “like him” as the butler had so insisted. 

 

In the middle of the small crowd stood a familiar face in Baekho. Though the man had done nothing personally offensive of his own volition, the sight of him still made Seongwoo internally wince. He instantly buried those memories as deep as he possibly could, keenly focusing on the man’s words.

 

“-ce we have all gathered, we can do a walkthrough. That way, none of you get lost walking through the halls at night.” Baekho said, easily capturing attention with his cool, commanding aura.

 

“Why would we walk the halls at night?” One voice piped up from the crowd. Baekho pinched the bridge of his mouth and a few members of the huddle laughed. A few more people joined their clique before Baekho, with a candlestick in hand, led them down a dark corridor inwards.

 

* * *

 

 

“-ough it may be convenient, I would recommend against cutting through the courtyard. It’s still rather brisk out, and it’d be best to keep it warm as possible for our noble guests.” Baekho said firmly. The accompanying crowd of concubines mumbled affirmations in response.

 

It’d taken the lot nearly an hour, but Baekho had given the concubines a fairly decent lay of the land. The villa was much more compact than what Seongwoo had gotten used to, but it came as a relief. The layout was simple: three floors formed a square, long halls surrounded by rooms, some larger than others. In the middle of it all was a courtyard with benches and a few neatly arranged trees and hedges. A level had been dug out beneath the ground floor for servants to sleep and prep in, but aside from that Ong noted no distinctive anomalies or features.

 

“If anyone is in any need of supplies necessary for our line of work, you can come to me or ask a servant. For regular needs, any member of our villa staff will assist you.” The Duke’s concubine gave everyone a smile, “Since we’ve finished our business up here, the servants have prepared us a hearty stew down below-”

 

The portly man had hardly managed to get out his last few syllables before the crowd scattered; they dashed in the general direction of the stairs leading to the cellar level, leaving the few more oblivious (or perhaps less hungry) behind. Baekho merely sighed, chuckling as he calmly followed the lot.

 

Seongwoo sighed in relief as he followed the others. Eating among servants made meals something he could actually think to look forward to. Woody, herbal smells filled the concubine’s nose as he descended the steps into the servants’ dining hall. Voices ricocheted off of the low ceiling and across the room, resulting in a somewhat cacophonous din. One of the villa’s kitchen maids spooned stew out in heaping portions, sliding bowls to each hungry person who sat at the long wooden table. Without so much as looking the woman spooned out steaming portions for the men who had just entered.

 

Among the unknown faces were a number of friendly ones. Seongwoo spotted a few allies; he happily joined the other travelers from Castle Jeon who’d gathered at one corner of the table. Even before sitting, he could hear raucous laughter from halfway across the space.

 

Sungwoon and Jaehwan turned out to be a fairly terrifying combination. As the servants and concubines and performers mingled, those particular two managed to stay a step above the rest regarding loudness. For an iota of a second, Seongwoo’s reflex of courtesy worried that their loudness would impose on their hosts. He instantly realized how stupid it was to care and happily listened in on their back and forth.

 

“-it’s not. You’re going to scar the poor boy!” Sungwoon’s voice rang out the loudest when Ong took his seat.

 

“Hush,” Jaehwan waved dismissively, “Don’t listen to him Guanlin, the plural of mouse is meese.”

 

“Stop it, I’m serious! I- Guanlin, you can’t seriously consider his word over mine,” Sungwoon looked at the young chick earnestly, jabbing a finger at the giggling musician. Guanlin wore an expression that simultaneously communicated utter confusion and immense amusement. He laughed, merely shrugging at the two.

 

“Guanlin is a smart boy. He knows,” Jaehwan nodded, giving the boy a wink.

 

“Knows what? That you’re a dolt?”

 

“He knows that I know… That he knows.”

 

“Oh I know,” Guanlin nodded, playing along despite the fact that he, in fact, had zero ideas what was going on.

 

“He knows,” Jaehwan said again.

 

“You’re idiots.”

 

Jaehwan shook his head and pointed at Sungwoon, “He doesn’t know.”

 

Woojin piped up, “I know-”

 

“Stop talking, Woojin!” The two loudest snapped at him for daring to intrude upon their joke. The dejected dancer squinted his eyes and pouted at the two. The bickering trio went on for another few minutes before Seongwoo tired of it. He decided to interject, asking a question of his own.

 

“I-if I may ask-” He started, “How exactly do these… Things go?” He looked around. The others grew quiet.

 

Sungwoon was the first to speak, “These things as in… The hunt?”

 

“Yes, the hunt. The reason we are here.”

 

“O-oh goodness. I suppose I never gave you a concrete explanation, did I? Only a rough outline. Thankfully,” Sungwoon dipped his hand into his jerkin, taking out a piece of folded paper. (“Wh- You just keep notes there?!” Jaehwan commented.)

 

“I wrote down the schedule,” Sungwoon said, opening the paper with a triumphant flair. Ong cocked an eyebrow, leaning over slightly to get a better look at the list.

 

“Breakfast will be at approximately seven o’ clock. We are to dine here unless explicitly requested otherwise, so we can meet here in the realm of seven. By eight thirty the lymer and the huntsman are to be finished gathering information on the game- I heard rumors of a hart. Quite a few, actually.”

 

“A heart?” Guanlin piped up, baffled.

 

“A  _ hart _ , Guanlin. Male deer.” Sungwoon corrected before continuing. “Yes, after the information and formations are discussed, the dogs will be placed on their marks around nine. Then it’s a matter of waiting for the lymer’s signal and…” He waved, “We chase. I assume we’ll take down at least one hart before the morning is over. Lunch is at twelve thirty-”

 

“That’s when we come in!” Woojin interrupted.

 

Sungwoon scowled at the dancer before speaking again, “ _ -then _ we have another session in the afternoon to begin at… Two o'clock. Dinner is to be at six sharp for the nobles. During which time we can clean up and come back down here. Entertainment will be to start around eight, and then I assume the tentative plan is to drink the night away.”

 

Guanlin clapped happily, “Party! Party! Party!”

 

Seongwoo’s stomach dropped slightly, remembering the last party he’d attended. It hadn’t gone well. Sensing his hesitancy, Sungwoon gave him a reassuring smile.

 

“I’m sure so long as you stick by your Master’s side and don’t punch Dukes, things ought to go smoothly, yes?”

 

Seongwoo gave the older man a half-hearted smile. The prospect of navigating the social landscape of Kang Kingdom nobility alongside his Master sounded incredibly exhausting to him. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of the Duke’s welcome party. Even if Duke Hwang wasn’t attending, it would still feel uncomfortable standing next to his highness due to other recent occurrences. Seongwoo did not dare think about what had happened for more than mere seconds. Every time the thought crossed his mind, he felt a sharp pang of shame well up in him. 

 

“Yes?” Sungwoon prodded, looking concerned. Ong hadn’t realized that he’d gone so long without responding.

 

“I think I can survive a party.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

 

“You can always play sick,” Jaehwan added. “I know a combination of herbs, spices, and - secret ingredient - lard that can make you perfectly exhibit the symptoms of stomach illness!”

 

“Jaehwan,” Woojin said, “Did it ever occur to you that those symptoms arise from that mixture because it actually makes you sick.”

 

“Well, it works! You feel better after a day or so.”

 

“You’ve just described what is essentially a mild poison.”

 

“I am trying to help, what help are you offering?”

 

Woojin turned to Ong with a cocked eyebrow, “I offer you advice: never listen to Jaehwan.”

 

The performing duo quickly veered away from their initial subject onto some strange tangent. Together they made the room twice as loud as it was before, and when Sungwoon joined, it became thrice. Guanlin and Seongwoo watched along and laughed at the antics of the impossibly obnoxious trio. Laughter drowned out nearly every other voice in the room. 

 

Seongwoo wished it could drown out the voices in his head.

 

* * *

 

“-And you lot will be sleepin’ here.” A maid holding a lantern had lead Seongwoo, Jaehwan, and Woojin down a corridor on the ground floor. 

 

Castle Jeon’s finest had conversed for a long while after Woojin and Jaehwan’s spell of bickering. They’d exchanged gossip, tips, and tall tales. Seongwoo had discovered that, despite looking rather harsh, Woojin spoke more than a sparrow. He’d also learned that Jaehwan could play piano, guitar, mandolin, and organ. When the group had finally decided it was time to retire, Sungwoon and Guanlin parted ways, each going to their respective Masters. Ong had been informed that he was by no means obligated to share a bed with his master - nor had he been requested to. 

 

The Duke’s remote villa hadn’t been built with connecting rooms for concubines, hence why he, along with the other two, was being led elsewhere. Shoved away in the northeast corner of the floor was a cluster of small rooms intended for short-term guests. Luckily for the trio, the Duke had invited few people, meaning that they weren’t relegated to the servant’s quarters.

 

Softly, the petite maid knocked on one of the doors to the left. When no answer called out, she opened the door gingerly, gesturing to the opening, “Whichever of you three is the performers, your instruments and things have been put in here, so this is yours.” Jaehwan and Woojin nodded. They muttered thanks and said goodnight to Seongwoo before turning in quietly.

 

“This one’s yours has all that stuff that was with the King’s,” The maid crossed the hall, pointing to a door opposite the performers’. Seongwoo nodded, giving his own polite thanks before turning in. He yawned with a stretch as he crossed the threshold, tiredness quickly pouring over him. The room was modest in comparison to the place he slept in the castle but still more than serviceable. Though not painted, the carved wood of the bed frame looked solid and rich in color. The walls were decorated with a floral pattern that was matched in the painting of the small dressing table and ottoman. 

 

The concubine’s fingers began making quick work of the laces that secured his vest over his shirt. He strode over to the chests resting at the foot of the bed. Everything seemed to be in order, but he couldn’t truly tell since he hadn’t packed his own things.

 

Suddenly, a mischievous thought took root in Ong’s mind. Despite his fatigue, he tilted his head, listening for anyone or anything out in the halls.

 

Nothing.

 

Tiptoeing, Seongwoo approached his door, opening it with as much care as possible. With just a crack open, he peeked out.

 

Nothing and nobody.

 

His heart pitter-pattered, and his mind started racing with ideas and notions. He fidgeted with the ties of his vest, reknotting the strings with haste. It was a bit of a flimsy idea, Seongwoo thought, but it could work. For a moment, re-entered his room, eyes straining to see in the candlelight. When he saw a cloak hanging in the wardrobe, he swiped it quickly, fastening it over his shoulders. Before he could talk himself out of it, Seongwoo slipped out of the door once more and pulled the hood over his head.

 

It felt surreal. 

 

For a moment the freedom felt dizzying; he felt lightheaded. He took a few steps, half expecting to have a chain slung over his neck right then, but nothing happened. He took a few more and still, no response, not even the skittering of a mouse along the floor. Seongwoo’s heart palpitated with pure excitement, but he urged himself to remain calm. Overconfidence could be the bane of him.

 

The concubine proceeded with caution, thinking his options through. Stealing some rations from the kitchen would be ideal, but he thought it would highly increase his chances of being caught. The cellar level was probably crawling with unfamiliar servants who, even if he managed to get away, would probably sell him out for a few coins. 

 

Seongwoo knew the night sky well enough, he figured he could navigate to the castle with relative ease as long as he could see Polaris. Though he loathed the idea of sulking around Castle Jeon, he felt confident that he could slip in through the loading dock and convince people to help him prepare for a longer trip. He thought he could push the escape back a night, but remembered that everyone would be up later the next night, drinking and being merry. While a party seemed like a good distraction, he anticipated that people would question his location relentlessly. If he attempted to enlist the help of others, they’d all probably try to talk him out of it, or worse, report him to his Master. 

 

So onward he moved. The plan was clumsy but doable. Doable was likely the best Seongwoo could get on his timeframe.

 

Pressed against a wall, Seongwoo snuck down the corridor of his guest room, grateful that he’d been put in a corner. It had put him that much closer to outside. The concubine put an ear to the heavy wooden door separating him and possible freedom. He didn’t hear a peep. The cloaked man took a deep breath before conscientiously nudging the door open little by little. 

 

Aged metal hinges grumbled with each smidgen the door opened, but eventua,lly there was enough space for Seongwoo to slip through. The concubine did so happily. He felt as if he had stepped on a cloud, as if he was walking on air and not land. His heart beat ecstatically as he strode further out.

 

The night was clear, and the air still retained some of Winter’s bite, but it was beautiful. A waxing crescent beamed down brightly on the forest, painting thick lines of shadows in every which way across the landscape. Stars spotted the sky, immaculate little spots of wonder. Seongwoo couldn’t help but take a deep breath, eagerly taking in the smell of damp earth. 

 

As much as he wanted to relish in being free from restraint, he knew time was of the essence. He decided he could do all the basking he wanted later, and clung to shadows as he searched for the stables. Looping around the back of the villa, Seongwoo could just barely make out the silhouette of a sort of structure. More telling was the smell that wafted into his nose.

 

The concubine slowly trod along the backside of the Duke’s vacation home until he reached the back of the stable, then looped around to step inside. His heart threatened to jump out of his throat from the excitement. As he entered the animals’ shelter, a few whinnies sounded out from the startled horses.

 

“Shhh, shh, shh, it’s alright,” Seongwoo whispered, holding his hand out in front of him. “It’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He slowly approached a nearby horse that looked to be dapple gray and started petting its muzzle delicately. The creature seemed fairly comfortable, probably used to various people need its assistance with various tasks around the villa.

  
The concubine’s eyes darted around, squinting in search of bridle and saddle. Feeling around the walls, he managed to find a bridle. Upon further consideration, he decided a saddle was too much effort given the time constraint. He knew he would regret it immensely, but had little time to consider much more than moving forward. He shuddered at the cold draft running into the stable, yet he felt clammy with sweat at the same time.

 

Seongwoo’s hands shook as he opened the horse’s stall, leading it out. Thankfully the creature seemed to be of good nature, and it paid little mind to his rather rushed, haphazard job of securing the bridle on him. The concubine felt like he was going to choke or get sick or fall over. It felt so thrilling, he feared he was dreaming. 

 

Swallowing hard, Seongwoo clenched his thighs around the horse, experimentally lifting the reins. Obediently, the dapple gray came to attention, slowly walking forward. Ong experimentally moved the reins forward again, and the horse followed the prompt with ease, moving at a leisurely pace. It had been a long time since Seongwoo had ridden a horse himself, and he prayed to God that what skills had stuck were adequate. Praying lended the jumble of nerves a semblance of comfort, so he squeezed his eyes shut to fit in a few more before his journey. He prayed to God that he could come up with a good explanation as to why he’d turned up at Castle Jeon again. He prayed to God that he would have safe passage onwards.

 

“Going for a ride at this hour?”

 

He prayed to God that he hadn’t just heard what he thought he heard. Who he thought he’d heard. Seongwoo opened his eyes, looking at the source of the voice. He swore he could hear a loud thud from how his heart had dropped to the ground limp, lifeless. There he stood, looking up at the concubine with satirically inquisitive eyes, was the bane of Seongwoo’s existence.

 

“M-master.” The words weren’t so much said as they were dropped out from between Seongwoo’s lips. He remained frozen in place as if he’d look Cassiopeia herself in the eye. Not even the horse stirred.

 

“You can even ride bareback?” Daniel sounded amused, “Impressive.” 

  
Seongwoo felt sick. His throat constricted and the edges of his vision began dancing and shifting. Completely disregarding rank and etiquette, Ong snapped, just ever so slightly. 

 

Voice steeped in virulence, he asked, “What the hell are you doing here?” His chest heaved, struggling to maintain proper air flow. He clenched his sweaty fists around the reins with white knuckles.

 

“Reading,” Daniel said, his voice infuriatingly upbeat. To corroborate his point he held up the candlestick he held in one hand and a book in the other.

 

“What kind of imbecile goes outside during the night to read? That- that doesn’t even make any sense.”

 

“Nor does riding a horse without a saddle, yet here we are.”

 

“Wh- Why do you seem so amused by this?” The concubine scoffed.

 

“Because I know you wouldn’t last an hour in those woods before either turning tail or getting found.” He shrugged contemptuously.

 

Before Seongwoo could fire back with a retort, another voice called out in the darkness.

 

“Hey!” A man’s voice bellowed not far off from the stable. As he moved closer, one could distinguish the fox insignia on his armor; Ong deduced that he was a guard. “Hey, what’s goin’ on here?” The burly fellow brandished a long polearm that gleamed in the moonlight. “What’re you two doing out here at this hour? With one of the Duke’s horses no less? Did you think you were going to make off with it and not get caught? Don’t think of makin’ a break for it now, I can hurl this thing real far.”

 

The King sighed, turning to face the guard with his hands up. The armored man’s face immediately lit up with realization, and he bowed deeply.

 

“Y-y-your highness I-I am so sorry. Please forgive me, I- I had no idea I-”

 

“At ease,” Daniel said cooly. The man stood upright and nodded.

 

“Well what about him? You know this man or did you catch him red handed?” He waved the pointed end of the polearm in Ong’s direction. Seongwoo’s mouth flapped open and closed, but he had no believable defense ready. He quickly sifted through thoughts and scenarios, trying to figure out how to wiggle his way out of his situation, but his thoughts were interrupted by speaking once more.

 

“I can explain,” Daniel said, sounding regal as ever, “This is actually my concubine, Seongwoo.” The King stepped back and gave his ward’s leg an affectionate squeeze. Embarrassment flared up in the concubine’s chest and he wondered if God would have mercy and strike him with lightning at that precise moment.

 

He didn’t.

 

The King continued,“My dear Seongwoo gets terrible night frights when he sleeps. It’s- it’s horrifying watching him thrash about and scream so violently. When they worsen, sometimes it helps if we take a ride in the night air- to clear his mind. I didn’t think we’d disturb anyone, and 

 

Duke Hwang is a longtime friend of mine, so I thought he wouldn’t care if I took his dapple gray out for some air. We are so sorry for this misunderstanding. Please, do forgive us. To be honest, I feel quite silly about all of it. I don’t think the Duke need be troubled by it, really. This will remain between the three of us, yes?” Though his highness had made his last statement sound like a question, coming from the King, it was truly a demand. The Duke’s guard enthusiastically nodded yes, probably thrilled that he shared a “secret” with the King.

 

“Your highness, I will take it to the grave. Now, if I may humbly and respectfully request, I think it best you two turn in or- or at least go indoors. If you wish, of course!”

 

“I agree! Don’t you Seongwoo?” Daniel turned to look up at the concubine, a wide, wily grin across his lips.

 

“Yes, Master.” Seongwoo spat back through gritted teeth. He hoped he had adequately sounded as spiteful as he felt. Ong swung his leg over the side of the horse to dismount before suddenly realizing how much harder it was to get down from a horse without a saddle. He wondered how he’d even managed to get on top of the creature; he was in awe of how much of a rush had been surging through him just minutes ago.

 

The King seemed to notice his struggle, putting his book down and holding an arm out. Seongwoo’s eyes widened in indignation. Daniel merely grinned. Suppressing a groan, the concubine slid down awkwardly, and the King caught him, looping an arm around his waist when he could reach it to keep him steady.

 

“Oh, the bridle,” Daniel muttered.

 

“I’ll take care of that, your highness. You two get some rest. Busy day tomorrow for you lot.” The guard said.

 

“Thank you. Good night, sir,” Daniel said, giving the man a polite smile. The guard seemed absolutely thrilled. He seemed the type to brag about it to his fellow soldiers over ale. The robust looking man clumsily handed Seongwoo the King’s book before turning to put the dapple gray back to its stall.

 

The King stopped suddenly, turning to make one last parting comment, “Oh, actually, sir. May I make one last request of you?”

 

“Yes, your highness? Anything for you! You are the King,” The man said.

 

Daniel held back a chuckle, “Yes, well I… I believe I heard some howling from the woods. Wolves, most likely. It would be a shame if we were to wake up to a gutted horse, wouldn’t it?”

 

The guard looked mortified, “Quite, sir.” He replied.

 

“If you could- if you have perhaps a guard to spare, it would mean a lot to me if you could have someone guard the stable. That way we can assure that no wolves make out with one of our beloved horses.”

 

“Right, yes. I will do it myself, your highness!” The guard stood upright once more, saluting. 

 

“Thank you so very much.” Daniel’s tone sounded sweet. Sickeningly saccharine, if Ong had to evaluate it; he wanted to gag. His highness put a hand on the small of the concubine’s back, guiding him to a side door.

 

When the two stepped in, finally out of sight and earshot of the intrusive guard, Daniel took his hand off of Seongwoo’s back. The King broke the brief spell of silence between them.

 

“Get some rest,” He whispered, his theatrically lighthearted tone completely drained.

 

Seongwoo didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t want to lash out again, speak candidly at risk of being punished. However, he struggled to keep his rage contained. He shuddered with fury, his palms clenched, furiously squeezing the book that had been shoved into his arms. 

 

“What’s going to happen to me?” Seongwoo asked, his voice strained, trying to stay level.

 

“What?”

 

“What punishment shall I face for this? What am I to expect? Or will you be indifferent this time or-”

 

“Seongwoo, calm yourself. That- that can be discussed later. You need to rest.” Concern tinted Daniel’s voice.

 

“Now you’re pretending to care about my wellbeing. Why do you do this? Can you not choose whether you want to be kind or despicable? So- so you choose some middle ground-” His throat started constricting once more. Dark spots warped in his vision. He felt furious. Freedom had been so close, but he got caught and then he froze up. Ong felt devastated because he knew deep down it was his fault. His ambition and overconfidence is what had landed him where he was.

 

“Seongwoo, breathe. Breathe. Just- Can we discuss this later? Breath.” The King whispered as loudly as one could without disturbing those sleeping.

 

“Why,” His chest heaved and vision blurred; his knees started feeling weak, “Why didn’t you let me go? Why couldn’t you just turn a- a blind eye?” He stumbled into a wall. The concubine clenched his teeth as agony began to set in. He always thought it felt akin to being pricked with venom.

 

“You can’t navigate those woods at night, you’d die trying- but- that’s beside the point. Just breathe.”

 

“Why do you insist on keeping around another person who just- just hates you? Do you get off on being despised is- is that why you- a-ah” Air became a commodity that he’d apparently not been able to get enough. Everything hit him at once like a mighty hammer pounding his chest. Shame, anxiety, anger, the hysteria of it all assaulted him on all fronts.

 

“Let’s sit down, okay?” Daniel whispered. It sounded muffled, dull beneath the noise of pumping blood and a rushing heartbeat. Seongwoo, already feeling weak, obliged, sliding down to the floor. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. His body shivered violently as he heaved, his lungs begging for air he couldn’t take in.

 

“Close your eyes,” Daniel’s voice sounded even more soft than before. Melodic, even. “Focus on the book you’re holding and nothing else. Can you feel it? Can you feel the book? You don’t need to answer verbally just- just think about it,” He knelt down close to Seongwoo but kept a distance.

 

Seongwoo squeezed the book for dear life. He ran his finger along jagged, coarse pages and over embossed letters.

 

“Can you smell it?” The voice asked. 

 

The concubine’s breaths wavered, but he inhaled. It smelled a tad dusty, but it also smelled like the outdoors and like aged paper. It smelled pleasant.

 

“If you touch it- the book- what sound does it make?”

 

Seongwoo shakily ran a finger over the pages.

 

_ “Shiff.” _

 

He tapped his fingers on the spine.

 

_ “Clack. Clack. Clack.” _

 

“There are ridges on the spine of the book. Can you count them?”

 

The concubine ran his finger over the spine again. One, two, three, four, five, six, he counted. 

 

Before another prompt came his way, he blinked his eyes open. It took them a moment to adjust to the low light of a few candles, but he soon acclimated himself. Though the initial panic had subsided, residual pains endured, combining with a new wave of embarrassment. He felt unfathomably pathetic. Of all people to rely on during such a time, it had to be the one who had caused it to onset in the first place.

 

“Can you get up?” Daniel asked, his voice still calm. He kneeled an arm’s length away, eyeing Seongwoo concernedly. 

 

The concubine frowned, his pupils darting away from the King’s, “I’m fine.” He said. Though still shaky, he stood up, hugging his cloak tightly around his shoulders. He walked off in the opposite direction of the King. He wasn’t even sure whether or not it was the proper way, but he desired nothing more than to distance himself from his Master.

 

After doing nearly a full circle around the perimeter of the bottom floor, Seongwoo reached a corridor that he found familiar. He tiptoed to his door, slipping in as quietly as possible once more. With the door shut behind him, Seongwoo crumbled to the ground. He buried his face in his hands and cried. He never reflected on it often, but he was never much of a crier. Since childhood, he’d boasted being the upbeat, strong one no matter what the odds. 

 

You’re not the strong one anymore, he thought to himself as his body quaked with painful sobs.

 

When he’d managed to get his tears under control, he sniffled, wiping his nose. Suddenly he realized, he still held his majesty’s book. He’d been clinging to it the entire time and he hadn’t even noticed. The concubine rolled his eyes, glancing to see what exactly the man had so urgently needed to read outdoors. In the middle of the night.

 

“Story of the Sky   
Understanding Our Stars and Constellations”

 

Seongwoo scowled at the book, flipping through the pages. Unsurprisingly, it was full of star charts and explanations about each star, constellation, planet, and cluster that astronomers had managed to catalog up to its publication date. 

 

“That explains why he was reading outside at night,” Seongwoo mumbled to himself, rolling his eyes.

 

He blinked confusedly, glancing at the text again and murmuring,“Why is a King reading about astronomy? Since when does he care about the star-” He paused. A thought crossed his mind, a treacherous thing that acutely agitated him.

 

“No,” The concubine threw the book down, wringing a hand through his hair. That served as the final straw that broke Seongwoo’s back. He threw his clothes off then threw his body into bed, ready to sleep off the long day and strange night he’d just had. He buried his head in his pillow, willing his mind to steer clear of any more traitorous insinuations.


	18. The Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 18 WARNING(s): explicit language, mention(s) & description(s) of violence, hunting, weaponry

“Guanlin- Put that down!” “Stand straight!” “Has anyone seen my ring?” “My tie’s come undone!” “-I will put that mandolin where not even God’s eyes can see-” “S-sir why do you look so angry?” “I forgot to put on rouge- quick, does anyone have some near?!” “That’s just how my face looks…” “Where is my ring?!” “Wh- Who gave you boots with spurs?” “I- I am so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

 

Seongwoo stood still in one of the Hwang Villa’s corridors as chaos surrounded him. Concubines and entertainers ran left and right with their last few, slapdash attempts at perfecting their appearances before joining the hunting party. The lot had been roused from their beds shortly before sunrise and rushed into the servant’s dining quarters for a quick, simple breakfast of breads and cured meats. Sungwoon had taken the liberty of vividly outlining the day’s proceedings once more; much to Ong’s displeasure, he was required to remain dutifully beside his Master for the entire engagement.

 

He still winced when he thought about the previous night. He wished that the King was a mere oaf or even a brutish pervert, something simple, easy to decipher, easy to cope with. What he’d come to see was that the man had more facets than a jewel, all of them equally irritating. A small sliver of him felt grateful that, at the very least, the man wasn’t feeling particularly frustrated or ferocious. Unfortunately, he was left to wonder on the condition of his Master regarding the coming activities. Whichever face he chose to show, it was one Seongwoo would have to deal with for hours on end. He wondered if he could make the experience bearable by directing the conversation toward the royal cats.

 

“Ready?” The familiar soft tone of Sungwoon’s voice sounded out from beside Seongwoo.

 

“As I’ll ever be, I suppose,” Seongwoo shrugged.

 

The older man rolled his eyes, “I was referring to your clothing, but I’m glad to hear you have mentally fortified yourself for a grueling day of standing.” Ong side eyed the other with an annoyed expression and looked down at himself. He’d been outfitted with black underclothes topped with a leather jerkin and waxed cloak. The boots he wore were sturdier than the ones he typically walked around in, closed with buttons as opposed to lacing. He thought it odd the Kang Kingdom favored wearing black so often when most cultures reserved it for mourning. Thinking on the nature of the Kingdom’s ever turbulent string of leadership, he decided that, perhaps, they were in a state of constant mourning.

 

“Remind me again why I am required to be bound to Master’s side for the entire day,” Seongwoo said with a small frown.

 

“Well, it is a longstanding tradition. Spouses were deemed unsuitable to engage in such affairs, but nobles wished to have companions join them in the festivities and assist them.”

 

“Why not relatives or soldiers in training or literally anyone else? He didn’t have a concubine before, who did he ride with then?”

 

“He rode with castle concubines- those unbound to individuals.”

 

“What if I can’t ride a horse?”

 

Sungwoon rolled his eyes, “What kind of dolt can’t figure out how to hold onto someone. I- Why does this matter so much to you? If you like, when we return to the castle, I will walk to the graveyard and ask our deceased predecessors!”

 

Seongwoo crossed his arms and huffed, “Point taken.” 

 

“Seongwoo, I am sure you have overcome more taxing trials than this. You can last a few days in the proximity of your Master.” Ong chewed on his bottom lip; he hated to admit it, but he lacked the confidence that Sungwoon had in him. He felt confident that he could suppress his urge to strangle the man. As fantastic as the vision of escape during the hunt was to Seongwoo, he didn’t want to be mistaken for game.

 

“Maybe so,” The concubine replied with a frown, “But I won’t enjoy it.”

 

Sungwoon chuckled, “Would you feel more relaxed if we made a signal of sorts? Some kind of gesture you can show me across the field to request help?” 

 

“Yes,” Ong smirked, closing a hand jokingly over his throat, “If you see this, please rush to my side and strangle me. Or the King. Whichever suits your liking.”

 

“I may feel inclined to do so without need for a signal,” Sungwoon snorted.

 

“Wh- I am wonderful company!” 

 

“Oh, yes. Of course you are.”

 

“You sound most unconvincing.”

 

“Well, you didn’t let me finish. I was going to say: of course you are, except when in the presence of the King.”

 

Seongwoo narrowed his eyes, “I don’t understand what you mean.”

 

“I mean what I said. You make great company when alone, but once you are put beside your Master you act… Well…”

 

“I act as I understand I ought to!”

 

Sungwoon gave him a doubtful expression, “Do you?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“You and I remember things very differently.”

 

Before Seongwoo could ask what the hell Sungwoon had meant by his statement, someone interrupted their conversation.

 

“We’ve been called to the front yard! Don’t dally, we’re expected to be ready by the horses before the nobles,” Baekho barked the proclamation, drowning out the previous state of chaos. The disorder began subsiding into a more organized sort of chaos. After assuring themselves that their affairs were in order, concubines filed out of the room in no particular order. Sungwoon put a hand on Ong’s shoulder, guiding him outdoors before the other dallied too much. 

 

A small shiver ran down Seongwoo as he exited the villa. Though the early spring air wasn’t offensively cold, a gentle wind blew that chilled him more than he would have liked. The sky had been covered with a thick sheet of gray as far as one could see, and the grass had not quite sprung back up to its green, perky self. The gloomy conditions of the day did little to alleviate Seongwoo’s bleak mood.

 

Stablemen tended to the waiting horses which had been arranged in a series of organized rows. One stableman approached the arriving concubines, telling each one where their noble’s horse stood.

 

“To whom do you belong?” The stableman asked when Sungwoon and Seongwoo reached him.

 

“Advisor Yoon Jisung,” Sungwoon answered quickly.

 

Seongwoo’s initial reaction was to tell the man that he belonged to himself; unfortunately, he knew that was not the correct answer within the borders of his Master’s territory. Through gritted teeth, he answered:   
  
“King Daniel.”

 

The man looked Seongwoo up and down before nodding, and waving toward the horses, “Second row, the blue roan in the center.” If he had noticed the concubine’s chagrin, he made no indication of caring. Ong almost felt giddy as the man walked off, swiftly ending their conversation with no uncomfortable mentions of his majesty. Sungwoon nodded to him as the two parted ways, walking to their assigned places. The formation had been arranged neatly and simply: four rows of three horses with one at point, likely for the huntsman. As Duke Hwang had said, it was a relatively intimate engagement.

 

Things proceeded at a quick pace, and soon every horse had someone next to it. Seongwoo saw that Baekho had already gotten to his horse when he reached the blue roan horse he’d be riding. He noticed Guanlin a couple of rows behind himself and recognized Duke Choi’s concubine in the row behind him as well. Nobles started arriving shortly thereafter, happily chatting away with conversations probably held over from the breakfast assembly. Seongwoo assumed that hoping his Master had somehow gotten maimed between late the previous night and the morning was fruitless. When the familiar, broad-shouldered form of King Daniel strolled out the villa’s grand entrance toward the formation, he frowned that he’d been right.

 

Seongwoo braced himself as the distance between his Master and himself decreased with each ambling step the man took. The man hadn’t even reached him, yet the concubine already felt a knot form in his chest. He willed himself to relax lest he have another episode in front of the Kingdom’s finest and richest.

 

“Good morning,” The singsong tone of the King came all too soon.

 

“Good morning, Master,” Seongwoo replied. He kept his eyes cast toward the ground.

 

“Have you ever hunted before, Seongwoo?”

 

Ong despised the man’s inclination to make idle conversation. Spending the day in silence and running away as soon as they returned sounded ideal to the concubine. Every extended conversation he’d had with his Master had been slathered with a thick layer of tension. The mere act of eye contact made his pulse race. Just thinking about it, about the things that Daniel has said to him, gave him goosebumps. The man had an effect on him he dare not reflect upon.

 

“Not… Not like this, Master,” Seongwoo replied, his eyes drifting to the horse once more.

 

“Are you nervous?” Daniel asked.

 

“I… I am a bit anxious, yes,” The concubine’s answer was genuine, but it referred more to his mental state than anything involving the actual hunt. Realizing how vulnerable it made him look, Seongwoo quickly added, “But I know I shall be alright. Until the day that game learns how to shoot back, I have nothing to fear.”

 

Daniel chuckled, and Seongwoo instinctually stole a glance. The man’s eyes had been reduced to half crescents and a smile stretched across his face. It made his heart swell ever so slightly with warmth; he always enjoyed making others happy. However, it was not his wish to be a jester or personal entertainer to the King. Bitterness tainted the cheer he typically would have felt, and he decided not to reflect upon it anymore.

 

Instead of thinking about his Master, Ong glanced behind to see how the other pairs fared. He held down his gag reflex upon seeing Guanlin draped on General Park; the aura around oozed affection to the point that it nearly suffocated the onlooker. He loved seeing Guanlin happy, but he wished it could have been with anyone else (save for the Duke). Part of the older concubine wished that the young chick would have some sort of holy revelation and take up the cloth. He thought it best that nobody touch the most precious human he’d met under the roof of Castle Jeon.

 

Advisor Yoon and Sungwoon looked surprisingly formal. Seongwoo knew that his mentor had always been more of a stickler for rules, but the man conducted himself in a rather casual manner within the castle walls. Mounted behind his Master, he had a completely contrasting air about him. His stern expression bore no hint of his blunt, informal nature; he almost looked like a soldier. Ong had forgotten how seriously Sungwoon took his role.

 

Entirely too close atop the horse next to Seongwoo sat Duke Hwang with his strong concubine behind him. The pair looked intimidating, each gazing forward with fierce eyes, carefully waiting for the huntsman’s signal. It seemed so strange that the Duke had taken such interest in the King’s concubine shortly prior; yet, upon “using” him as one would say, he’d lost complete interest. For a moment, Seongwoo wondered if it had anything to do with desire at all, or if he’d really intended to take something that belonged to the King. Though he could have spent more time musing about Duke Hwang’s character, he preferred to forget about the whole affair.

 

“Hear!” A voice shouted into the chilly morning air. The huntsman, mounted on a buckskin horse at the point of the formation, turned around to address the nobles, “As discussed in the assembly, we’ve traced the hart deep into the forest. It won’t be drawn closer toward us until it ventures for drink from the river in the afternoon. Hence, this morning we shall hunt avian game in the northeast clearing. I shall ride point with the lymer bringing up the rear. ” He turned around, facing the woods in front of them. Yelling valiantly, he announced, “Onward!”

 

The huntsman spurred his horse, and soon others followed. The band of merry hunters trotted onward toward the clearing. A few dogs ran obediently alongside the party, and as the huntsman said, the lymer who’d been in charge of tracking rode in the rear.

 

Seongwoo felt grateful that, at the very least, his Master was competent at riding. Despite the tricky terrain of the wooded area, he kept a fairly smooth ride. It came as a relief to the concubine that he did not need to cling to the King for dear life like he’d feared.

 

Trees gradually huddled more and more closely together as the party wandered further into the forest. Seongwoo conceded that what people had said to him prior wasn’t inaccurate: the woods were thick. Even in the daylight, when the trees lacked fully spread leaves, the overlapping branches obscured the light from above. The thundering sound of hooves on the ground filled the concubine’s ears as they moved further inward. He hoped that the time would go by fast and he could soon retreat to the bed he’d been given.

 

“Story of the Sky

Understanding Our Stars and Constellations”

 

The cover of the book appeared in Ong’s mind upon the thought of his guest’s quarters. Gleaming gold foil lettering on top of a deep indigo cover, a nod to the appearance of the night sky itself, no doubt. His eyes drifted to the back of his Master’s neck as he pondered the man’s motives. Seongwoo had half a mind to stab one of the bolts through his Master’s throat then and there but opted not to given that it would have been viewed unfavorably by the company. 

 

Perhaps he didn’t like someone he considered lower than him being more knowledgeable on a subject than he. It seemed a probable motive for a noble. Surely the man had no interest in astronomy; no conventional court activity necessitated a King knowing the sky. 

 

Though Seongwoo had an itching desire to delve deeper into Daniel’s thought process, the book’s contents soon began to distract him. Pushing the King aside, it did seem interesting. Ong had read many books on the night sky, but he hadn’t come across that particular one. He wondered what school of mythology it aligned with, if it discussed star placement relative to the seas or if the moon came into play. He happily distracted himself pondering the stars once more as the ride went on.

 

Stars, he thought, were much easier than humans.

 

* * *

 

 

Seongwoo fidgetd with the arrows sticking out of the quiver he'd been given. He'd been tasked with something simple enough: help his Master reload. He hardly needed to help at all; all he had to do was hand the King an arrow and he did the rest. Despite the ease of the task, anxiety continued bubbling up inside of him in waves. He would feel alright, relaxed even, then he would remember what had happened the previous night. Then, a pang of anxiety would strike him, adding a layer of stress to every small action in which he engaged.

 

In the midst of yet another upward spike of stress, he asked, "Master?"

 

"Yes, Seongwoo?" The King replied.

 

"Have you decided what will happen regarding last night?" The concubine tried to sound calm and frank, as if he accepted his punishment with grace and wasn't immensely bitter or terrified.

 

“Seongwoo, I am going to issue a command to you, and I believe it best you listen.” 

 

The concubine straightened up, nodding as he passed another bolt to his highness,“Y-yes, Master?”

 

“I order you to stop asking about punishment. At least until we return to Castle Jeon. I’d like to enjoy my time here without burden. Wouldn’t you as well?”

 

Seongwoo wanted so badly to protest and remind the man that being stuck at his side wasn’t what he’d had in mind. He refrained, merely nodding affirmatively in response. 

 

“Off!” The huntsman yelled in the distance, sending another pack of hounds into the forest to rouse the birds. Another storm of black, flapping forms darkened the sky. The Duke’s trained falcons began routing them once more, closer. “And shoot!” The huntsman barked. The sharp snapping sound of triggered crossbows echoed in the small clearing, and bolts flew into the air, arcing toward the fowl.

  
Seongwoo watched as his Master’s bolt completely missed the mark, embedding itself into a tree not too far from their standing spot. His body nearly jumped with the desire to laugh, but he remained stoic. The King appeared completely unphased by his inept shooting, and he stood straight once more. 

 

The cycle repeated in intervals of ten or so minutes. Seongwoo would reach into the quiver, pass Daniel an arrow, and stand back to watch calmly. Even after another three rounds, his highness hadn’t gotten close to even the sky. Seongwoo began to wonder if the man suffered severe sight problems. When the concubine bored of watching his Master’s inadequacy, his eyes began to wander.

 

The next round he watched General Park carefully. Guanlin handed his Master an arrow with glee, and as the huntsman called for shots to be fired, the warlord’s shot plunged straight into one of the flying targets’ chests. Seongwoo internally noted not to get into any altercations with the man when he had possession of a crossbow. He had a feeling the note could apply to multiple types of weaponry, but it disconcerted the concubine exponentially knowing that he wouldn’t be safe even at a distance from the General.

 

He watched Duke Hwang next. His fox-like nature, it turned out, was not limited to his appearance. The nobleman displayed a good eye for a moving target, nearly beheading a goose before the creature flapped frantically away. Baekho stood firmly behind; he looked more like a guard than a concubine with his imposing posture and stance. 

 

Sungwoon’s Master, Advisor Yoon, had aim nearly as bad as Daniel’s. Though Sungwoon stood firm and formal, the light in his eyes told a different story. He leaned over to whisper into his Master’s ear often. If Seongwoo were to guess, he was teasing the man for being such an awful shot. It occurred to Ong that he couldn’t say so for certain, however. He realized he still knew very little about either man despite feeling that Sungwoon was one of his closest friends in the Castle. Ultimately, Seongwoo decided it was better that he knew less.

  
  


The concubine watched his Master miss another shot yet again and suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. After fighting with the idea for a few more rounds of shots, Seongwoo finally decided to say something. His Master had spoken rather colloquially with him previously. Though he didn’t dare to be jarringly informal, he wondered if he couldn’t coax some sort of explanation from the man with a more relaxed tone.

 

“Master,” Seongwoo said.

 

King Daniel quirked an eyebrow, turning to his concubine, “Yes, Seongwoo?”

 

“May I ask something?”

 

“What is it you want to ask?” The King looked at his concubine with curiosity.

 

“If I may, what, um… I believe I lack understanding of your traditions. With this hunt I… I wonder…”

 

“What? You can say it.” A tiny smile played at the edge of his highness’s plush lips.

 

“Master you’re a terrible shot,” The words came out of Seongwoo’s mouth before he could stop them. He threw a hand over his mouth, rapidly cycling through words and thoughts in his mind to excuse himself. When the initial pang of panic had subsided, he realized that the King hadn’t said anything back for a few moments. Swallowing hard, the concubine turned to fully face his Master who had been snickering of all things.

 

“Why would you think such a thing? I’ve hit every  mark!” He asked, his voice facetious.

 

Seongwoo couldn’t prevent his lips from curling at the edges ever so slightly,“Master, I was not aware that we were hunting trees.” 

 

“It’s a distinguished Kang Empire tradition. Tree hunting. They’re savage creatures, truly. Look at them just,” He gestured to the treeline in the distance, “Growing.” He squinted his eyes.

 

“The Kingdom is privileged to have such a brave man as their leader,” Seongwoo clenched his heart to punctuate the theatrics. 

 

Daniel nodded with fake earnestness,“Thank you, I know. I’m just so, so magnificent,” he laughed, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment after the joke. His laughter died down, and he made an admission softly,“This will probably come as unbelievable to you, or perhaps stupid, but… I just can’t bring myself the land the killing blow. It’s hard to watch them drop, the life fading from their eyes right in front of you...” He said, pulling the trigger of his crossbow. The bolt departed with it’s telltale “whoosh” noise and shot between trees straight into the woods.

 

Seongwoo wasn’t sure how to answer the man. Perhaps his highness spoke so openly because the concubine was not a person of consequence, or perhaps he had some peculiar compulsion to be forthright with the other man. The concubine couldn’t tell. Were he to be completely honest to himself, to his very core, he thought the sentiment sweet, adorable even. For a grown person to still harbor such a soft, benignant heart was a rarity. The concubine quickly reigned in the sentiment, pushing the conversation forward as a distraction.

 

“Master, if it is not out of my place to ask-”

 

“Seongwoo, please speak freely. Well- relatively freely. Use sense, but you don’t need to ask permission every time you are curious.”

 

The concubine nodded, “Right. Thank you, Master. I just- If you dislike hunting, why come in the first place? Why not decline the invitation?”

 

“That’s an understandable question,” Daniel replied, “As a King, my philosophy is to be a King of my people. I want to serve them, to give them my best. Sometimes, that requires compromise and diplomacy and… Hunting trips.” The King pursed his lips in a minute pout, “It is crucial that I maintain good relations with nobility. Little outings like these please them and assure them that I care on a personal level. There were also other factors contributing to this particular decision.” His highness made no qualms about deliberately eyeing his ward up and down.

 

A sensible answer to a sensible question, Seongwoo thought. He honestly believed that other nobles would likely decline invitations to doing anything they dislike, but clearly, as many had told him, Daniel was much more yielding than other sovereigns. The concubine found it ironic that his highness labored so extensively to please his people yet it made many care less for him.

 

“Do you have good relations with the Duke?” Seongwoo regretted the words as they left his mouth. The thought had been on the tip of his tongue, but he hadn’t wanted to allow it to slip out. He had no idea what he expected to hear. His highness had looked so amicable when accepting the Duke’s conversation; he wondered if his Master had cared about being so blatantly disrespected. A minuscule sliver of him dared to feel curious if his Master cared about his rough treatment at all. “I- I mean now that- now that things are sorted,” He tried to amend the thought to be less general, less personal sounding.

 

“Yes, our business relationship remains intact. As for personal, well… It matters not. Personal relationships don’t fill the coffers,” The King frowned. The concubine tilted his head curiously; he saw an opening. The curiosity inside of him couldn’t help but feel urged to pry, just ever so slightly. He knew he had little to personally gain from the knowledge of the King’s private affairs; he rationalized that any little piece of information could contribute to solving the puzzle of a man before him. 

 

“What happened?” Seongwoo asked, giving the King his most unassuming look of inquiry.

 

“What?”

 

“Between you and… You and Duke Hwang. You said personal relationships don’t fill the coffers. Forgive me for being presumptuous, but… Were you two once close?”

 

Daniel’s eyes shifted to the ground for an instant before returning to his concubine, “Well, we all were, the lot of us. You see, many of the people here now grew up in the castle with one another. And- Wait. It- it doesn’t matter. No need to bore you.”

 

“Are you sure your highness?” Seongwoo softened his voice, “You just… You seemed a bit unhappy is all. I thought perhaps you may want to talk about it...” The King looked at his concubine with open suspicion. 

 

Though he maintained his scrutinizing gaze, he spoke coolly, “That’s awfully sympathetic of you.” He said as he continued studying Seongwoo dubiously; it made the concubine squirm internally beneath to feel Master’s heavy gaze.

 

Seongwoo could understand why his highness treated him with such cynicism. It wasn’t as if the concubine had ever cared about his Master’s mental state prior. The majority of their interactions were out of necessity or a means to some end. Seongwoo did not doubt his acting skills, but given the previous night’s encounter, he could understand the presence of increased skepticism. Regardless, the man’s sudden development of critical thought vexed the concubine.

 

He sighed,“If I may speak honestly… I am coming to… Concede that I will be by your side for…” It pained him to say the words, “Some time. Or- well- as long as you wish it, Master. I, um, believe it was you who’d first spoken of coexisting.” Seongwoo chewed on his bottom lip, eyeing the man anxiously in wait of a response. He did not believe a word that he’d just uttered. He felt sure he would not be bound to the man before him for long, but his highness didn’t need to know that.

 

Daniel looked intrigued; his critical gaze softened, and he replied, “Why this change of perspective?” Seongwoo wanted so badly to ask the man why he suddenly changed moods every time they met, but he stopped himself. He wondered what on earth would be a feasible response that wouldn’t cause him to physically recoil.

 

“I…” He felt his cheeks sting with embarrassment, “I believe I have misjudged you.” He wasn’t sure why the statement made him flush up as it did. He did not truly agree with his words, not in the slightest.

 

“You do?” The King blurted out in disbelief. It made Seongwoo’s cheeks burn more intensely than before.

 

“On second thought, please disregard what I have just said, Master. I- I-”

 

The King held his hand up,“You’ve no need to explain anything more if you don’t desire to.” He gave Seongwoo a small smile, and the concubine swore something in the man’s eyes looked entirely too happy about the embarrassment. “As for the Duke and I… That’s what you were curious about, yes?”

 

Seongwoo nodded, unsure what his highness meant by the question.

 

“Well, he and I grew up in the castle together with many of the others, as I said. We were close, but just prior to us all coming of age, he had to leave. His father had died and left him the Hwang estate. He went from a boy to a man quickly after that. We were all running around court trying to romance people and learning how much wine we could stomach in a night. He ran a duchy.

 

He was never the same after that- his father dying, I mean. He became so much more cold. Just being in the same room as him would give me a chill. So, as you had asked, we were once close, yes. As for now… Ally? Yes. Friend?” Daniel shook his head, “Absolutely not.” His last words were said intensely; a fury underlined them. Seongwoo looked at him surprisedly, but before he could respond in any way, the King cut him off.

 

“Hand me another bolt,” He said, his voice much lighter than it had just been, “I have more trees to hunt.” Seongwoo obliged, passing an arrow to his Master. King Daniel pulled the trigger and, to the shock of no one, missed another target.

 

* * *

 

“Aw, look at them getting along,” Sungwoon cooed as he watched King Daniel and Seongwoo converse across the clearing. 

 

“We’ve gone three hours now without any incident,” Jisung commented, grabbing an arrow from Sungwoon. He, too, watched the pair across the clearing intently, “That means Lee’s out. Choi’s neck is on the line.” He paused his thoughts to shoot into the crowd of birds that the hounds roused. 

 

Sungwoon rolled his eyes so far back he feared they’d recede into his head, “Why must you and your friends insist on perverting an honorable tradition like this with betting? At least bet on something relating to the hunt! Not- Not- whatever obscure occurrences related to Seongwoo you can come up with.”

 

“It’s not obscure!” Jisung held up a finger, “Almost all of it is based on the facts. Count Lee bet that we would go one hour without incident from him, Duke Lee thought two. Duke Choi more boldly predicted four hours to be the breaking point. Now I… I have inside knowledge,” He quirked an eyebrow at his ward.

 

“You put five, didn’t you?”

 

“I put five.”

 

Sungwoon shook his head, “I suppose the King doesn’t know about any of this.”

 

“Oh, God no. He’d probably have a laugh, but I think it best to avoid him knowing lest he sway the results. Not to mention the extracurricular bounties.”

 

“Extra- what?”

 

“The Count’s got three silver on Duke Hwang getting punched again. JR- you know of him, yes? He threw in some copper for the Duke getting kicked in the groin. That’s wishful thinking in my humble opinion. However, Duke Choi did sway me on the aberrant hunting accident. I’ve put two silver there. Now, I’m not sure how odd it will be, but I’m thinking someone gets maimed-”

 

“Incredible,” Sungwoon sneered, “Absolutely incredible that you can lightheartedly gamble upon the condition of your closest friend! And his concubine who, if I need remind you, is a human being. You all must have quite a laugh at their expenses, just- just-”

 

“You want in don’t you.”

 

“I want in.” 

 

“How much?” Jisung grinned as he lined up the stirrup of his crossbow with the skyline.

 

“Two copper for eight hours.”

 

“Done,” The advisor said, pulling the trigger of his armament. Cutting air followed the sound of snapping, and his arrow zoomed toward the flock of birds once more. He held his breath, watching it skim closer and closer to the birds. It eventually flew off into the distance, out of sight.

 

He sighed in defeat, adding, “I’ll alert the bookkeeper during lunch.”

 

“Good,” Sungwoon smiled, “I’m most excited to collect my winnings.”

 

“What makes you so sure? That man seems much more volatile than you seem to think. Sometimes I wonder… Something’s not quite right about him.”

 

“I believe it is you who thinks wrong about him. He’s been cornered, but he has learned his lessons and will stay poised for the duration of this trip. I guarantee it.”

 

Jisung frowned,“Now I am doubting myself! Perhaps I need to bank on a hunting accident.” Sungwoon smacked his Master’s shoulder lightly.

 

“Do not dare wish such a thing upon your King or his ward!”

 

The King’s advisor snorted, grinning at the other, “Oh please, Daniel shoots like an idiot, but he’s not stupid. I merely did it for a joke!”

 

“You know, most people use their  _ mouths  _ to tell jokes, not their wallets.”

 

“I prefer to use various mediums in the art of comedy.”

 

“Is that why all your shots have gone wonky? Employing the medium of hunting for the sake of comedy?” Jisung’s mouth clamped shut, and he narrowed his eyes at his ward. A grin more mischievous than the last spread across his lips. 

 

He leaned close to his concubine to whisper, “You are going to pay dearly for that tonight.”

 

Sungwoon smirked, immensely satisfied with the turn of the conversation.

 

* * *

 

Rustling leaves and squawking echoed in the distance as another dark form dropped from the air into the trees. Upon seeing the kill, the huntsman sent one of the retriever dogs into the woods before approaching the shooter.

 

“Excellent shot, General Park,” The huntsman said with a smile.

  
General Park Jihoon returned the compliment with a polite nod, “Much obliged.”

 

“Truly, General! You are phenomenal with the crossbow. That’s your third one this afternoon.”

 

Jihoon laughed sheepishly, “Much appreciated. I merely had excellent instructors when I’d learned, that’s all.”

 

“Skilled and humble! I ought to find who taught you and ask for lessons myself,” The man laughed before returning to his position in front of the treeline. 

 

In truth, that kill could have easily been the General’s fifth or sixth had he cared enough. However, the young man decided it best he leave some prey for the rest of the hunting party. He had no particular urge to wound the egos of a dozen other nobles on that particular day. 

 

“Master, that was fantastic! You’re amazing! I could never shoot down a flying target, not even if I wanted to! I suppose the thought does irk me, but- but- you’ve done so well!” Guanlin beamed at Jihoon, clapping enthusiastically. 

 

Jihoon smiled, happy to receive praise from his concubine, “Thank you.” He grabbed the other’s hand and placed a quick peck on it. “How are you faring? Are you cold? Hungry? Lunch ought to be called any minute-”

 

“I’m fine, Master.” The concubine replied. “Just as I was ten minutes ago and ten minutes before that.”

 

“Very well, very well. I will stop asking how you are doing.” Jihoon put his hands up. The huntsman called for another round of shots to be fired, but the General ignored them. He’d bored of shooting down fowl.

 

“You needn’t worry so much, Master. After all, I am next to you. I could not be safer or happier,” Guanlin took a step to close the short distance between them and gave his Master’s hand a squeeze.

 

“You should feel privileged that I worry so much,” Jihoon pouted, “I don’t fuss much, you know.”

 

“No? I would never believe such a thing!” Guanlin laughed, a big smile illuminating his features.

 

“I do not! Except for you. Do you know why?”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because,” Jihoon leaned in, quieting his voice to a whisper, “You are so, so precious. You are not allowed to have misfortune fall upon you. Not even in the slightest.”

 

“Not even a little?” The young chick said playfully.

 

“No.” The General replied.

 

“What’s to happen if I stub my toe on a table?”

 

“Then I’ll burn the table down, my dear.”

 

Guanlin erupted into a fit of laughter, nearly dropping the arrow he’d intended on giving his Master. The General grabbed it; he loaded the bolt and lectured his ward on weapon safety. The young concubine started rattling off safety facts he’d learned while practicing language with ‘The Art of the Bow’.

 

Jihoon initially found it immensely endearing that his Guanlin had been educating himself. However, as the boy articulated more and more technical details, the Master’s eyes began to wander. The General smiled and nodded, but his gaze started to hone in on a pair of hunters in the distance.

 

First, it was ‘The Art of the Bow’, but what else would that concubine, Seongwoo, teach Guanlin? The General wondered. What if Guanlin started acting defiantly? What if he spoke badly of the King? What if he started asking questions?

 

Bitterness stung his chest at the thought of his Guanlin being tainted by such a burdensome, black soul. To make matters more worrying, his highness had warmed up to the man much more than the General had anticipated. Joining the bite of acerbity in his gut was the weight of guilt for having brought the man into the Kingdom. He asked himself:

 

Did I invite the snake into the Garden of Eden?

 

“-but I still can’t quite get the difference between a recorve bow and a regular one.” Guanlin scratched the back of his head contemplatively.

 

“Hm?” Jihoon blinked, raising his eyebrows inquisitively.

 

Guanlin frowned, “Were you not listening? I, um, it’s- It’s not of importance anyways.” Just as the light in him began to fade, Jihoon quickly picked up the fallen pieces of the conversation.

 

“Wh- Of course I was listening. I was merely confused for a second because you said a ‘recorve’ bow. I’m afraid to inform you there is no such thing.” The General chuckled, “However, there is a  _ recurve  _ bow.” He smiled, “The difference is that the edges of the bow are curved outward, away from the archer-” Jihoon illustrated said curvature with his fingers in the air, “This delivers a more powerful shot than its straight peers.”

 

“Oh!” Guanlin grinned sheepishly. “Then why use regular bows at all?”

 

“Well, there are a few reasons. Straight bows are easy and reliable. A recurve, even well made, will put more strain on its parts. If a recurve is designed badly it can severely backfire and even destroy itself.”

 

“Whoa! Who would design such a risky weapon?”

 

“Some people,” Jihoon turned to face the game fowl once more, “Appreciate the reward that proceeds high risk.” In one swift movement, he lifted his crossbow and pulled the trigger. A single blackbird fell limp from the sky.

 

“So cool…” Guanlin murmured with starry eyes. Before The General could thank the young boy for his compliment, the huntsman’s bellowing voice cut through the scattered conversations.

 

“That’s the last round!” The huntsman yelled, “Lunch is ready in the villa yard! Saddle up and we’ll ride back, yeah?”

 

The hunters cheered back with a resounding “Yeah!”

 

Guanlin gasped excitedly, “I’m so hungry, Master. What do you think is for lunch?” He bounced up and down with a grin on his face. Jihoon paced over to their horse and began working on the knot keeping it tied up. He smirked, feeling a bit cheeky.

 

“I’m not sure what the Duke’s arranged for our meal, but I already know what I’m having for dessert,” He leaned in, giving a quick peck to his giggling concubine.

 

* * *

 

Tents cropped up on the horizon as the party approached the villa’s yard once more. Nearing the cluster of pitched linen, Seongwoo could better see that each tent had rugs laid out and cushions piled beneath the shelters. Servants stood at ready with carafes and bottles in hand. A wide variety of foods had been spread across the blankets beneath the tent: baked meat pies, pastries, fruits, and nuts. Small stone structures hosting fires had been built in the yard to fend off the chill of the wind. Despite the unfavorable conditions, the musicians brought along effortlessly strummed a jolly suite on guitar while dancers moved in rhythm. The casual lunch arrangement gave off a warm, cheery air, and the fatigued hunting party collectively perked up upon seeing it.

 

“Master! Master! A picnic!” Guanlin eagerly batted at his Master’s shoulder from behind. Even from in front of him, Seongwoo could hear the little chick light up with excitement. He imagined the young boy’s eyes lighting up and his mouth dropping into a round “O” shape.

 

The huntsman led the party to a waiting crowd of stablemen, and each hunting pair dismounted to make way for designated tents. King Daniel and Seongwoo descended the saddle of their blue roan with ease. They followed the servant who led them to their tent and sat down on a heap of luxurious cushions without so much as a single word.

 

Seongwoo considered it the highlight of the day.

 

Before either of the two famished men could protest, a servant draped a thick damask blanket over their shoulders. The concubine blinked confusedly, watching the man as he walked off. Both he and the King eyed one another, instantly looking away when their gazes met. 

 

The King and his concubine silently agreed to pay attention to the pressing matter of nourishment. In front of them a wide array of foods had been arranged. Seongwoo knew he needed to wait for his Master to eat first, but luckily his highness’s hunger surpassed his concubine’s. He muttered a quick, mindless prayer before placing figs and dainty pastries and grapes and cheeses on his plate.

 

Seongwoo felt relatively content leaning back against the massive woven cushions and watching nothing. He took a deep breath, basking in the scent of the damp earth combined with the spices flavoring their food. He wished he could have been allowed to sit outside for the entirety of the trip. Even with the gloominess of the gray clouds, he felt happy to be outside. Sometimes, the open air felt homier to him than four walls. 

 

Servants offered the King and the concubine mugs of mulled wine which they both accepted graciously. Seongwoo hugged the blanket more closely to his shoulders and prepared for a quiet lunch. Much to his dismay, company arrived shortly after.

 

“Good afternoon, your highness,” Duke Hwang Minhyun said with a bow. His concubine who stood next to him bowed as well.

 

The King gave the two a polite smile,“Good afternoon, Duke. Would you like to join us?”

 

“I must be brief, I need to greet all of my guests, but I would be honored.” The Duke perched on one of the large cushions under the tent; Baekho remained standing. The burly man made eye contact with the other concubine once, but his pupils quickly flitted away shyly.

 

Dread filled Seongwoo to the brim and he thought he might drown in it. The Duke’s mere presence put him on edge. The concubine couldn’t tell if the Duke was looking at him, and he felt too apprehensive to check. His eyes remained fixed on the opulently woven carpet beneath them, tracing and retracing the lines of the floral pattern.

 

“Have you enjoyed yourself so far, King?”

 

“Yes, quite! It’s been a truly splendid time. Thank you for inviting me, Duke. You always do keep such lovely company.”

 

Minhyun beamed, “Thank you so much! If you have a wonderful time, then I will deem this entire weekend a success.”

 

“You are well on your way to success, then!”

 

“Once again, your praise truly means so much. And how about you, Seongwoo? Is this your first time hunting-”

 

“He’s also had a wonderful time.” King Daniel cut off the Duke. Seongwoo had to stop his eyes from widening at the interjection. Daniel’s face remained cool, and his voice hadn’t changed in sound, yet an ambiguous animosity hovered among his words.

 

The Duke took pause, he froze for mere seconds before responding, “I’m glad to hear. I would have accepted hearing it from him. This is no formal event-”

 

“I understand. Regardless, he is not speaking with you,” The King replied. Seongwoo tried to keep his eyes on the ground, but his pupils kept shifting to the Duke and the King. King Daniel appeared aloof and genial as he always did (at least, in court and diplomatic situations). The Duke wore a small smile, but his eyes were blown out, clear indignation boiling beneath his dark brown irises.

 

“Please do not take it personally,” Daniel continued, “He is not speaking to anyone. His throat is terribly worn out. He can scarcely whisper.” 

 

Seongwoo hadn’t the foggiest as to why his highness would engage in such a charade, but he played along regardless. The concubine nodded meekly to confirm the King’s words. The Duke’s tension slackened slightly, and he replied.

 

“Oh, I’m- I’m terribly sorry about that. I can have the servants make you a tea mixture if you like. I know that helps me when my throat has gone funny.”

 

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you for the offer. We will remember it should we need the help.”

 

“Please do,” The Duke gave the two another polite smile. He studied the concubine momentarily, and Seongwoo shrank slightly beneath his gaze. Minhyun continued,“I would love to talk longer, but I am going to assure that all of my guests are faring well. If I may excuse myself, your highness.”

 

“You are excused.” The Duke and his concubine bow politely before departing, trotting off toward the next tent. Once the two leave earshot, Daniel speaks again.

 

“I apologize for not giving you an opportunity to speak, Seongwoo,” He said, chewing on his bottom lip. “I merely thought it best to avoid any…”

 

“Punches in the face?” The concubine tried to finish the thought.

 

Daniel frowned, “I was going to say openings for the Duke to be inappropriate. However, I suppose by extension, that too.”

 

“Right,” Seongwoo muttered. “Well, I am grateful, Master. You saved me the burden of needing to speak to him politely. It is not a burden I am positive I can bear well at the moment.” His words were true.

 

And, for the first time, an explicit admittance didn’t fill him with embarrassment or guilt. 

 

* * *

 

“Wh- Oh come on!” One of the nobles who had gathered under Advisor Yoon’s tent wailed.

 

“Into the pot, Count,” Jisung said, squinting to make out the four figures in the distant tent well. Duke Hwang and his concubine, Baekho, seemed to have polite parting words before walking off toward another tent.

 

“I really thought he’d punch the guy again.”

 

“We’ve got a full weekend ahead of us, don’t count yourself out, yet!” Duke Choi’s concubine, JR, chuckled. “I haven’t lost hope on the groin kick just yet. Come on Seongwoo, do it for all of us!”

 

“At this rate all we have left on our bets are conditionals,” Jisung muttered, crossing his arms. “Pretty much everyone is out on the hourly wages.”

 

“Not everyone,” The advisor’s ward chimed in with a small grin. 

 

“Don’t look so smug,” Jisung replied, animatedly pouting, “There may be time for that freak accident yet!”

 

“Groin kick!” JR cuts in, “It’s going to be the groin kick!”

 

* * *

 

“This is it!” The huntsman hollered to the happily fed nobles. “The lymer’s tracked the hart’s movements. The beast comes westward every afternoon to drink from the river, and that is when we have planned our attack. Gentleman, ready in your positions.” The man turned his horse around. A crowd of hounds had already been seated in position, ready to run when commanded. The horses stood in a different formation, a single file line as opposed to the rows in which they traveled in the morning.

 

“We’ll advance into the woods and give chase. Now, into the woods!” He grabbed the horn that had been holstered to his waist and blew two quick notes on it to signal moving off. 

 

King Daniel and Seongwoo occupied the spot behind the huntsman. The King prompted their blue roan to move forward shortly after the leader, and soon the entire party disappeared into the thick woods. 

 

Horses walked alongside hounds at a leisurely pace. The sound of wind rustling branches and hooves on the wet ground created a pleasant ambient sound in Seongwoo’s ears. Though bare, the concubine found a serenity in the stillness of the not yet flourishing forest. 

 

He nearly thought that he could derive some sort of jubilance from the trip. His highness had remained quiet for the majority of their time together. The swelling, dark clouds above looked threatening, but they hadn’t broken out into a cold rain. Duke Hwang had provided fairly well in terms of accommodations for the guests, the concubine included. Had he the ability to completely ignore the man in front of him and his circumstances, he would have regarded the experience positively.

 

As if unable to resist the temptation of ruining Seongwoo’s line of thought, the sky let down a single drop. The concubine jumped in surprise as the cool droplet hit his nose. 

 

“What is it?” King Daniel asked, glancing over his shoulder at the concubine. Another drop fell from the sky, swiftly followed by another. His highness’s head tilted up toward the clouds and he sighed, “Ah, I see.”

 

“The sun’s come out to greet us, Master,” Seongwoo joked. He felt the man’s shoulders shake as he chuckled.

 

“So it has,” The King replied.

 

“Yes, a fine day to be hunting! May I ask why it is again that Duke Hwang has chosen to host this expedition so early in the year?”

 

“That I cannot answer. However, I do feel the need to remind you that you were the one who heavily advocated for your being here.”

 

Seongwoo opened his mouth to respond; before he could utter a syllable, memories of his “advocation” flooded his mind. Immense humiliation colored his cheeks and ears crimson. Despite the cool air, he suddenly felt hot and uncomfortable in the many layers he wore.

 

“It’s still quite nice to get out of the castle,” The concubine responded; the sentiment held true. He did like getting out of the castle. He merely preferred the idea of doing so permanently. “Your hesitation seems to have been for naught.”

 

“I told you, it can be quite dangerous. We’ve yet to find the hart, but things get rather hectic once the big game is spotted.”

 

“Dangerous?” Seongwoo laughed, “I’ve spent the whole day attached to your side. I feel safe next to you-” He shut his lips immediately after the statement left his lips. Another layer of crimson painted itself atop the first when he realized the implications that he’d left.

 

The King seemed to pick up on the strangeness, and prodded a bit, “You feel safe next to me?” His tone started playfully, but softened, “I’m relieved.”

 

Painful recollections of the fit he’d pitched just days prior flooded Seongwoo’s mind. He strained to decide which statement had been more shameful: yelling at the King that he’d feel safest with the man far away or telling the man that he felt safe in close proximity. He decided both were equally devastating, and the latter was certainly an err of words and not a genuine sentiment. 

 

Seongwoo tried to save some of his dignity, “Yes, well, you so effectively handle the trees. I’ve no fear of them malignantly growing with your diligence.” Daniel laughed again, his body shaking even more heartily. Seongwoo couldn’t see, but he imagined the man’s eyes had once again been reduced to crescents. After a few more back and forth quips, the two lapsed into a comfortable silence. 

 

For near an hour they cycled between idle conversation and nothingness. Seongwoo would take long breaths, smelling the earth, trees, and rain. The King chattered occasionally. He started naming the hounds that walked alongside them but quickly ran out of ideas. After deeming two of them “Peter and Rooney” he mused aloud on the condition of his cats. He then listed the merits and downsides of dog ownership, mentioning the irony of the Kang family crest being a dog when he didn’t prefer them. Seongwoo wondered how such obscure, childlike thoughts managed to fill the head of a monarch; it almost fascinated him. It would have been logical to believe that such a powerful man would think about things of importance: economics, diplomacy, military tactics, marriage prospects… Instead, King Daniel made a case as to why the spotted hound to the left of their horse liked like “more of a Mary than a Catherine”. The concubine who had spent hours bored in (and out) of the castle couldn’t help himself from playing along.

 

“I think Judith is really more her- Look at those droopy ears,” Seongwoo pointed to one of the dogs nearby.

 

“Are you sure that one’s female? I was thinking Michael...” His highness stroked his chin animatedly. 

 

“Are  _ you  _ sure that one’s female?” The pause that answered Seongwoo’s question spoke volumes. Just as the concubine was going to make another comment, the sound of pattering rain intensified. As if on cue, the rainfall increased tenfold, and the pair on horseback huddled their wax treated cloaks more closely. Visibility became strained, but the two still kept eyes on the huntsman in front of them. 

 

“Will the hunt continue with this weather?” Seongwoo asked with a raised voice so he could be heard over the loud rain. 

 

“A light rain, yes, but with conditions like this it’s likely our target will retreat to shelter. We ought to do the same.”

 

“A logical conclusion,” The concubine commented. He felt sure that they’d be signaled to turn around any moment, but abruptly a noise echoed across the forest, rising above even the heavy rainfall.

 

A rapid series of pulsated double notes rang in Seongwoo’s ear. He struggled to precisely pin the source but assumed it had come from the huntsman.

 

“Is that the signal to turn around?” 

 

Daniel shook his head, “No… That’s the signal to pursue- it means the hart’s been sighted.” 

 

“Well your huntsman must have excellent vision to spot a deer in these conditio-” Suddenly the horse jerked forward, and Seongwoo let out a surprised gasp.

 

“Sorry,” The King said, “We must give chase now. I’m trying to keep pace, but he’s riding rather recklessly given the weather.” The sound of hammering hooves and fussing dogs added another layer of loud noise to the growing din.

 

“I suppose he knows these woods better than we do,” Seongwoo replied. Though he had no particularly strong feelings regarding hunting, he felt a strange mix of emotions as the party advanced on the creature. Part of him felt strangely exhilarated at the prospect of a collaborative goal being met. Even if he had done little to accomplish it, there was something satisfying in the concept of it. The other part of him felt strangely anxious. Whether it was the loudness or commotion, something about the final stages of the activity unsettled him.

 

Hooves against mud and rock boomed across the thick wood, filling the riders’ ears along with the patterning of the rain. The hounds weaved between the horses with urgency, barking loudly as they pursued the hart. Between the raindrops and the thick woods, Seongwoo found it challenging to see much of anything. The King spurred their blue roan to move with more urgency, leaving the concubine no choice but to cling to his highness to remain upright. He swore the man had just explained to him hours ago that he disliked the hunt; yet, he displayed some sudden need to lead the charge against their shared target. He wagered it had something to do with ego or reputation, but cared not to bother himself much further about it.

 

Vague yelling sounded out from in front of them; the words were indistinguishable, but it clearly belonged to a human. Seongwoo craned his neck to look beyond the King’s shoulder. His brows furrowed when he failed to make out any sort of bestial form in front of them. He narrowed his eyes, laboring to make out the hart from between thick trees and rain.

 

Another shout sounded out this time to their horse’s right side. Seongwoo’s head jerked in the direction of the hollering. Peculiarly enough, he still saw nothing. No person, no sign of the hart. He wondered if the wily creature had managed to evade them once more. He imagined the person to their right had started to give chase. The hounds’ barking grew deafening as the mass of them began crowding toward the front of the pack. They began yowling loudly and scattering. The target must be near, Seongwoo surmised.

 

Strange sounds started cutting through the cacophonous din on either side of them, and Seongwoo looked around frantically wondering where they’d come from. He never recalled reading that deer were among animals that could throw their voices; however, he admitted he had done little reading on hunting at all. Another sound cut the air, tickling Seongwoo’s ear, and the concubine realized: such a noise was not something that a beast could make. As he’d observed just moments prior, the noise had given the impression of slicing through the din, slicing through the air itself. 

 

Something shifted in front of them and drew Seongwoo’s attention. He could only make it out for a sliver of a moment. It could have been the deer, the concubine thought, though it looked big. It had disappeared between a few trees the instant he’d seen it. He thought perhaps the deer in the northeast were different than those he’d known of and that his highness felt confident that their pursuit was adequate.

 

Another wave of yelling erupted among the party, for what precise reason Seongwoo did not know. He observed in front of them again; the huntsman had slowed down significantly to match his highness’s pace. The yapping of the hounds and chatter of rain hitting the ground nearly drowned out the man’s words as he yelled something. Both Seongwoo and the King turned their heads to look him in the face to see if it helped them make out his words. 

 

Eyes blown open and face pale, the huntsman yelled, “Run!”

 

Seongwoo’s heart dropped, and so did the huntsman’s horse as a long arrow swiftly lodged itself into his mount’s throat. The large creature crumbled to the ground in a mess of flopping limbs, and his highness jerked on their mount’s reigns, scarcely avoiding a collision. The concubine’s head jerked to watch behind him and his blood froze. Just barely in the distance, through the rain, he made out unfamiliar, cloaked figures; some were mounted, others dashed between trees on foot. A few familiar horses could be discerned in the distance, but none belonging to anyone he knew. Dread stabbed his chest. The thought of anything happening to the few people he’d managed to grow close to petrified him. He had little time to consider their fates due to the deafening snap that cracked the air right next to his ear. His eyes had hardly caught sight of the thing, but in combination with the sound he realized: it was an arrow.

 

Panic began sinking into his bloodstream and his heart began to race. Pupils rapidly shifting, Seongwoo realized he could no longer see any sort of familiar form. The only other people surrounding him and the King were a mounted pursuer and a couple of men bounding about on foot. He swallowed hard, clinging to the man in front of him. It terrified him exponentially that he had to rely on King Daniel at that moment. His throat constricted at the realization of the situation. 

 

King Daniel spurred their horse onward, yelling back to Seongwoo, “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

 

Seongwoo dazedly tried to piece together an answer; upon opening his mouth, his words caught in his throat, choking him. Finally, he croaked out a response.

 

“No.” Was all he could muster. Suddenly their horse jerked, and Seongwoo feared that it’d been shot, but it turned out that the move had been intentional on the King’s part. A person hollered something behind them. When Seongwoo turned to look, he saw the body of one of their enigmatic chasers thrown off their horse, likely a product of the creature’s surprise at the sudden movement.

 

King Daniel looked over his shoulder briefly to eye Seongwoo and appraise their situation. A pair of stalkers followed them on horseback while another pair still managed to maintain pace on foot. They moved with such swiftness it almost seemed inhuman. Despite the numbers advantage on the other side, his majesty kept a calm facade. He routed further into the woods in hopes to throw them off. The man’s efforts, much to their chagrin, did little to shake them.

 

He leaned back slightly to address his concubine again, “Seongwoo, how capable do you think you are right now?” His voice wavered slightly, but he his effort to remain calm did not go unnoticed.

 

“Capable? Wh-what do you  mean?” Seongwoo squeezed his arms more tightly around Daniel’s waist, fixing his gaze downward in hopes that it would help him calm down. Though he knew it not outrageous to react strongly to a dire situation, part of his pride felt wounded. He wished he could be the calm one in the situation, the one willing and able to take control. Instead, he cowered, crushed in the vice grip of extreme fright.

 

“Can you handle a bow or take the reins?” He asked, his tone strained, brusque. Their horse jerked again to another side, causing Seongwoo to clutch the King more tightly as they took a sharp turn. Neither seemed a particularly appealing option, but given how his body quaked with fear, he thought himself most capable of the latter.

 

“I-I can take the reins, though I do struggle to see given our, um-”

 

“That’s good enough. Should we need any abrupt changes in direction, I can help,” The King cut him off. Though his chest heaved with shaky breaths, his voice sounded surprisingly composed. He took hold of one of Seongwoo’s wrists, gently guiding one of the concubine’s hands to the reins, then the other. “Just hold them steady and upright, can you handle that?” He asked.

 

“Y-yes,” Seongwoo said. He reigned in his nerves slightly, trying to focus on the task at hand. At the very least, holding the reins made him feel some semblance of control over the situation. It felt slightly less awful than doing nothing at all and relying solely on King Daniel’s prowess.

 

His highness carefully stretched his arm so as to not disturb Seongwoo’s hold on the reins. He reached down into the side holster attached to the saddle that held the traditional bow the hunters had been equipped with.

 

“ _ Shiff _ !”

  
Another bolt flew near them; this time it grazed his highness’s arm. Seongwoo’s eyes widened in terror as he glanced at the fresh cut. Bright red blood trickled down his Master’s arm, seeping into his sleeve. The injury was probably superficial, but it scared him how close their assailants had gotten to their mark. A few notches to the right and things would have worsened significantly. His highness inhaled sharply but had no other reaction. He reached again to one of the pouches attached to the saddle, withdrawing a few bolts.

 

“Watch out for my elbows,” King Daniel said cooly. He placed a couple of arrows between his teeth and lifted the crossbow. Seongwoo could feel the man shiver in front of him, and it fueled his determination to remain steady. A few moments went by with only the sound of hooves and rainfall filling the woods. The King waited patiently, biding his time until he found an appropriate opening.

 

After minutes that felt like hours, his highness yelled, “Lean right!” Seongwoo did as he was told, leaning to the right. The King leaned over his left shoulder, twisting his body to line up a shot. He pulled the bowstring taut, releasing the arrow with haste; the noise of the bolt discharging made Seongwoo inherently tense up, but he remained steady. Daniel repeated the action, quickly mounting the nock of another arrow to the bow and letting it fly. Loud, squelching thudding sounded out from behind them, but the concubine did not dare look. His heart raced as the charged forward.

 

He began to ask,“Did you get anythi-” Another arrow flow toward him, and despite his task of keeping their mount steady he ducked.

 

“ _ Shit _ . Are you alright?” The King asked, eyes wide with concern at the near hit.

 

“I’m alive,” Seongwoo replied. He tried to the best of his ability to calm his arduous breathing. He glanced around them and their stalkers on foot had created some distance. He thought it unfathomable that people could keep up with a horse for so long and started to wonder if they’d been deliberately led along a plotted path. His contemplation was short lived.

 

Disaster struck.

 

Though Seongwoo had kept a solid grip on the reins, the blue roan on which they rode staggered and jerked. Without warning, the creature bucked. Neither the King nor his concubine had time to process the turn of events, and they both were sent flying into the air. The pair hit the muddy ground with a thump, one after the other. 

 

The concubine, disoriented, watched their mount run off into the woods. Two of the shifting forms that had been chasing them began closing the gap all too fast. Pain radiated throughout his entire body, but the shock of the entire situation somehow dulled it. Everything confused him. The concubine looked next to him to see the condition of the King. The man blinked dazedly at the sky, likely trying to collect his own consciousness.

 

“Ah- sh-” Daniel gritted his teeth as he made an attempt at sitting up. Agony painted his features. Seongwoo tried doing the same, not feeling much better. He thanked God that the ground they’d been knocked onto had at least been relatively soft. The possibility of being impaled on a jutting branch or stump made him ill.

 

“We have to run,” Seongwoo winced as he tried getting up. Daniel merely nodded in response, and the two sluggishly rose to their feet. An arrow embedded itself in the mud beside them, and their slow pace extinguished, replaced by terrified urgency.

 

King Daniel moved first, grasping Seongwoo’s wrist and sprinting in the opposite direction of the approaching bandits. The two nearly collided with trees and stumps as they bounded through the stormy forest with no regard for anything but survival. Wet footsteps followed them with an agility they toiled to outrun. Though the sun had likely not even completely set, it nearly looked like night; the shapes of trees and boulders and roots became scarcely distinguishable from one another. The two ran and ran; their pursuers did not let up. A few more arrows had ventured in their direction, but thankfully none resulted in a fatality.

 

The distance between them gradually closed, and dismayed dread started to chill Seongwoo’s blood. The sound of loud, crashing water entered the King’s ears, and he led the other to follow it. Soon, the racketous noise drowned out even the heavy rain, and in the distance, just barely visible through the trees, was a river. Seongwoo didn’t know what his Master had planned, but if he had to guess, the body of running water could aid in some type of misdirection.

 

“A-ah!” An anguished wail sounded out from in front of the concubine. He froze, his heart dissolving in acidic misery as he watched King Daniel drop to one knee in front of him. The concubine’s eyes widened as he observed what had happened: an arrow had impaled the man’s shoulder. Before Seongwoo could process the situation, before he could even take another breath, another arrow flew rapidly, embedding itself in the King’s achilles. Daniel’s hand fell limply from Seongwoo’s, and his head bowed.

 

“...n…” The King muttered. The footsteps were gaining on them.

 

“Y- Y-you have to get up,” Seongwoo said, his voice quivering. He knelt down beside the man, grabbing his chin so he could face him eye to eye, “You can worry about the pain later, just get up.” He peeked over his shoulder. Two cloaked assailants advanced, though their pace was much more relaxed than it had been prior. They knew their targets were cornered.

 

“Run,” Daniel told the other, barely audible.

 

“I- They’ll- they’ll find me anyways, you just need to get up  _ now _ .” The King inhaled deeply and exhaled. 

 

“I said,  _ run _ !”

 

“But you’re going to-”

 

“I am your King and your Master. You do as you’re told,” Daniel looked at him with stern fury; yet another side of the King formerly unseen. “ _ Now _ !” His highness barked. Despite his efforts to appear authoritative, Seongwoo could see the pain underlying his eyes. He watched the man’s body shudder and his eyes struggle to maintain focus.

 

The concubine obliged. He didn’t know what to say, or if he ought to say anything. He silently conceded, dashing off to find someplace to hide. Even though his King had ordered him to run, probably to find help, he couldn’t muster the will to go far. He found a felled tree and crouched behind the upturned roots. Heart still racing, he peeked his head out from the side. He could just barely make out the King’s silhouette in the distance between a couple of trees.

 

Two cloaked figures approached the royal. One yanked his hair roughly and the other kicked him. Had Seongwoo thought he had a heart at the time, he would surely have felt it shatter. It would have broken down into more than just shards or fragments, but it would have disintegrated, pulverized into tiny grains of dust. The concubine covered his mouth to stifle a choked sob as his eyes welled up with tears. He didn’t know why watching had such a profound effect on him, nor could he tear his gaze away.

 

The assailants took turns laying into the King. One removed the arrows lodged inside of him, and the other took out a dagger, threateningly flourishing it in front of the victim’s face. They punched and kicked liberally until the man dropped to the ground.

 

Seconds went by turning into a minute.

 

He didn’t get up.

 

He didn’t even make an attempt at getting up.

 

Seongwoo’s eyes widened. He watched the cloaked figures each take one of his highness’s arms. They dragged the unconscious body to the riverbank and tossed him in unceremoniously. Seongwoo’s hand snapped to cover his mouth as intense nausea overcomes him. He trembled with fright.  The two rogues spoke animatedly about something; one threw their hands up while the other crossed their arms in an indignant manner. Their conversation was brief, and the two soon ran off as if in a hurry.

 

Once they were out of sight, the concubine allowed not even a second to pass before acting. His body moved before his mind, rushing to carry him onward. However, he did not run away.

 

Seongwoo, heart banging against his chest, bounded toward the bank of the river. He dove in, daggers of pain shocking his system as he came in contact with the icy cold water. A string of expletives reeled through his mind as he raced toward Daniel’s limp, bobbing body. Despite his exhaustion, whipping kicks erupted from his tired legs and using the current, he propelled himself toward the King’s body. He looped his arm around the unconscious man’s shoulders and guided him to the river’s edge. 

 

Upon reaching land, he struggled to drag the other up the slippery mess of mud and rock of the bank. Finally, after extensive exertion, he managed to pull the other up to relative safety; he laid the man down on a bed of wet leaves and roots to rest. Somehow, he’d managed to land them near where the bandits had caught the King. He observed the two bloodied arrows discarded on the ground, along with a rusted dagger and bootprints. The concubine remained still for a moment to catch his breath. He turned to see if his highness was okay, but the man hadn’t stirred.

 

“Hell,” Seongwoo muttered. He inspected the motionless man laid out on the ground more closely. The King’s chest wasn't moving. “Oh, hell.”

 

“Wake up, wake up…” The concubine whispered, lightly smacking his Master’s limp face.  “Wake up you idiot.” The concubine bit his lip, anxiety bubbling up in his chest. Breathe, the man reminded himself. He hunched over and pressed the heels of his hands atop Daniel’s chest; he began pushing down lightly. Initially, he’d been fairly collected, doing so at a steady rate.

 

However, moments passed with no response. Despite his better judgment he grew more frantic, more desperate, pushing harder than one ought to.

 

“Get up, get up…” Seongwoo murmured, his words falling on unreceptive ears. He bit his lip, his nerves filling him to the brim, a single shake from spilling out. “ _ Shit _ ,” He cursed, “Shit, shit, shit get up. Get up, get up,” Verging on hysterics, he stopped the compressions, raising a shaky hand. He grasped the rusty dagger nearby and shakily cutting the lacing off the man’s snugly tied doublet. He prayed the relief of pressure would allow him to breathe with ease. Tears fell down his face, and he yelled,“Get  _ up _ !”, punctuating the exclamation with a forceful slap across the face.

 

It did the trick, and suddenly the King jolted back to life with wide eyes and a gasp. He immediately rolled onto his side to hack up water and bile. When his heaving finally subsided, he sluggishly sat as upright as he could muster in his state. The usually handsome man looked like a ghastly husk of himself, his skin sallow and eyes glazed over.

 

“A-are they near?” Was the first thing Daniel managed to vocalize; it came out as a breathy whisper.

 

Seongwoo tried to remain the calm one of the two despite the chills setting into his bones, “The bandits? I think they’ve run off,” he said. The mere mention of their assailants made Daniel shrink back in fear, and his eyes darted about madly. The concubine had never seen his Master so afraid in his life. His face had been decorated with a few new cuts, and colorful bruises splotched the skin visible through the tears in his clothes. Seeing the man in such a state made his gut twist.

 

Suddenly, Seongwoo’s hand started itching. The rusty dagger clenched in his hand beckoned him. Dubious thoughts whispered in his ears, their voices cutting through the sound of pouring rain like a blade through flesh. 

 

King Daniel no longer looked like a King. His clothes had been shredded, the torn remains probably scattered between protruding branches and roots. Rain, mud, and blood matted his hair to his head, and dirt splotched his scratched cheeks. He shook violently, occasional coughs causing his entire body to quake violently. All he could do was hold himself for warmth. Never had a man looked so pitiful, so vulnerable.

 

So easy to kill.

 

Seongwoo imagined it with unsettling ease; with the pursuit of bandits, he could easily get away with murder. He could give himself a few more superficial injuries, hoist the man’s corpse over this shoulder, and drag him in the general direction of the Duke’s villa. Upon arrival, he could sow a tragic tale of their pursuit, how his highness died fighting valiantly for his life. He’d sob, emotionally recounting his fruitless attempts at saving King Daniel, and the man’s eventual death.

 

It was as if Satan himself had placed Daniel atop a silver platter and served him to his own concubine.

 

“…kay.” A low noise came out of the King.

 

Seongwoo tipped his head inquisitively. 

 

King Daniel looked Seongwoo in the eye and, to his best ability, spoke again. “Are you okay?” His quivering voice came out as a mere mutter. Seongwoo had heard the man speak to him, but he didn’t truly listen. His ears were too full; only rushing blood and the sound of demons rang clearly in his head.

 

Freedom, they promised him.

 

Freedom.

 

The concubine’s hand started moving slowly, as if by possession. His heart beat rapidly, nearly bursting through his chest as his trembling hand brought the weapon closer and closer to the King, to the end. 

 

Freedom, they screamed. 

 

Freedom.

 

“Seongwoo?” Daniel said. His eyes began clouding with concern.

 

Unable to stand the cacophonous din in his head, Seongwoo took his hand out of his cloak, pointing the dagger at King Daniel’s face. His hand still shook, but he ignored it. The concubine intensely focused on one thing: going through with it. Killing the King.

 

Freedom.

 

Daniel’s eyes widened in realization. He glanced at the blade, then back at Seongwoo. His chest began visibly heaving, and tears started to well up in his wide eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it.

 

Do it, Seongwoo urged himself. Do it. He couldn’t imagine what he looked like to King Daniel; probably like a man overtaken by absolute madness. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind. He shoved all thoughts about Daniel at the back of his mind. Only one thing could prevail to Seongwoo now, and that was freedom. A way out. Daniel cast his eyes downward, much to Seongwoo’s relief; it would have been much harder for him to look the man in the eye to the end. He tightened his grip on the dagger, readying himself to move forward.

 

“Do it.” A voice said, but this time the voice was real, attached to a human.

 

Abruptly, all of the little evils swimming around in Ong’s head drained. Silence stifled all else, even dulling the pattering of rain on the forest floor. The concubine’s eyes widened.

 

Daniel repeated himself, his voice thick, “Do it.”

 

Shock paralyzed Seongwoo; he stood in utter awe.

 

The King locked eyes with the concubine’s once more, “Just do it!”

 

Ong hadn’t realized he unconsciously lowered the dagger and corrected himself, aligning the tip between the King’s eyes once more. 

 

“Wh…What are you saying?” The words fell out of Seongwoo’s mouth before he’d consciously thought them.

 

“If you want to kill me,” Daniel said, “Just kill me already. Get it over with.”

 

“Y-you want to die?” Seongwoo’s mouth fell open, a venomous feeling took root in his chest.

 

“I think… We’d all be better off that way, wouldn’t we?” The King looked down once more, despondent, “I’m not fit to be King. Most of my court doesn’t like or even respect me. Even my own concubine does not respect me. I am usurped by someone who is supposed to be my slave… I never wanted to be King. All I’ve done is squander something that others have literally killed to achieve. I am not the strong ruler my nation needs… 

 

I don’t want to die… I deserve it.” 

 

All Seongwoo could do was watch in wonder as Daniel tilted his head back and shut his eyes, accepting death.

 

Welcoming it.

 

His heart wrenched at the pathetic sight in front of him, and suddenly, another voice whispered in his ear. It simply asked a single question:

 

_ Does he deserve to die? _

 

Initially, the answer seemed so simple to Seongwoo. Ever since he first laid eyes on the man, he’d had one desire, one goal. Everything that had motivated him pointed to a single endpoint: the death of Kang Daniel. Revenge. The man had imprisoned him, thrust him into a life stripped of rights, and subjected him to absolutely vile treatment. His nation had destroyed and taken so much more from his life than words or numbers could express. 

 

Seongwoo kneeled down, just grazing Daniel’s throat with the blunt edge of the knife. The blade tremored in his hand dangerously, but he didn’t care. Daniel bit his bloodied lip, bracing himself for what was to come.

 

_ Does he deserve to die? _

 

The voice asked again. Seongwoo badly wanted to shut it up in any way possible, to choke it out, drown it out with the sounds of Daniel’s dying gasps. However, his mind betrayed him, and thoughts began seeping in through the cracks in his consciousness. Treacherous reality flooded him.

 

Kang Daniel was not a tyrant, not in the slightest. It all came together for Seongwoo in an extremely undue epiphany.

 

The man had been shoved into the role of King after the untimely death of another young ruler, one he probably knew well. His parents had been long dead, and aside from memories, he’d likely gotten little guidance to his new role. A wealth of expectations had probably been heaped upon him from the very beginning of his reign. He’d gone from high ranking noble to carrying the weight of a nation on his unready shoulders. Since his coronation, it appeared that the man had been met with a complete lack of courtesy or regard. The King’s mishaps and negative qualities were a regular topic of conversation in court. He also seemed to have few people to confide in. 

 

On top of such circumstances, in entered the new concubine who left a wake of destruction in his path of defiance.

 

_ What has he done to deserve death? _

 

The voice asked him, and Seongwoo answered back:

 

What he had to.

 

Visions of war flashed across Seongwoo’s mind, yet their impact had dulled from their initial impression. He questioned: to what extent could he begrudge a man for doing his duty? Would he be much better than the King if he killed a defenseless man? Seongwoo’s rage-fueled resolve began wavering, crumbling away bit by bit. In his time under the roof of Castle Jeon, and as far as he had heard, Kang Daniel had not committed any atrocities. According to the courtiers, his biggest sin was being too kind. Part of him loathed himself for it, for pitying the King. After all, why pity a man who’d lived in the lap of luxury his entire life? Yet he couldn’t help it, not when he looked at the man asking for death in front of him. 

 

Seongwoo’s hand dropped, and the dagger fell to the mud below with a wet squelch.

 

“Kang Daniel,” Seongwoo said, words once again leaving his mouth before he could process them, “You do not deserve to die.”

 

Daniel’s scrunched expression of anticipation fell; his jaw dropped and his eyes opened wide.

 

“S-Seongwoo- ah,” He’d started to say something, but pain cut through his thought before he could let anything out. He clenched his teeth and inhaled sharply, hunching over with a shiver.

 

Seongwoo sighed in defeat, unable to avert his eyes from the dismal sight in front of him. He crouched down and swung an arm under the injured man’s shoulders. 

 

“Ah!” Daniel yelped, another shudder running through his body. “Just go without me.” He whimpered.

 

“How I wish my conscience would allow me,” Seongwoo said, hoisting the other up. Unsurprisingly, the taller man was also, in fact, heavier which made shouldering him no easy task. “You have to help me,” Ong muttered without meaning to. Despite the unintentional nature of the words, they seemed to rouse some sort of vigor inside the King. Shakily he stood up, keeping his weight on his uninjured foot. It took them a few moments, but the two found a semi-stable arrangement for footing.

 

The two trudged onward in the wet and mud, praying that they may be delivered to some sort of shelter in the dark forest.


	19. Pickles and Rum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 19 WARNING(s): self-deprecation, alcohol consumption

They walked. 

 

Rain poured.

 

Exhaustion tugged at Seongwoo as he dragged Daniel along. The concubine’s only idea upon scooping up the King was to follow the riverbank. People settled close to bodies of water, or so Seongwoo had rationalized. The theory sounded reasonable, but since walking, they hadn’t encountered a living creature. Seongwoo trembled violently at the cold, and it concerned him deeply that the man beside him hardly stirred at all. He merely hung limply by the concubine’s side.

 

“S...Seongwoo,” The utterance came out as a croaking whisper. 

 

“What is it?” Seongwoo asked, his words shaking with his shivering body.

 

“Stop.” The concubine nearly did, but his determination to find some sort of respite kept his feet moving. He turned to look at the King in disbelief. King Daniel scarcely met his eyes. Though the man’s functioning foot managed to lumber along laggardly, his mind did not seem to possess the same stamina.

 

“No. If we stop, we will never start back up again. We’ll find shelter soon,” He said it as if it was inevitable. He thought that saying it in such a way would force it to happen.

 

“Stop, please,” Daniel said again, a slight whine to his hoarse voice.   
  


“No.”

 

“I can’t…” His breathing sounded labored, “I can’t much longer. I can’t…”

 

“You can and will,” Seongwoo stood firm.

 

“No, I can’t. It hurts, S-Seongwoo. It… It…” He gasped for breath again.

 

“Stop speaking, you are only exerting yourself. You will be able to rest soon.”

 

“No. Stop now,” Daniel gripped the back of Seongwoo’s cloak more tightly.

 

“You’re not the one in charge right now.”

 

“Please…” The King’s voice sounded thick, “Please just let me go. It hurts… Everything hurts,” He dug his face into the crook of Seongwoo’s neck, sobbing into it, “I… I don’t want to… I don’t want to anymore… Let me die...”

 

“Thought about that. Decided against it. Now stop talking,” Seongwoo replied through gritted teeth. 

 

Time passed, and the King’s condition seemed to worsen. His vocal protests had stopped, and his body moved even more slowly the further they walked. How many minutes had gone by? Hours? Seongwoo had lost his sense of time. The only prevailing thought he had was “forward”. It was all he knew. Trees all looked the same, and the sights of roots and dirt and rock all melted together into an obscured sludge of darkness.

 

Suddenly, Seongwoo found himself falling to his knees. Colors dotted his vision, and he blinked furiously in an attempt to clear them. He could hear the King yelp beside him in pain and could feel the way the man’s body recoiled. The concubine’s body had joined the King’s protest.

 

“S-sorry,” Seongwoo mumbled. He tried standing up to no avail. He tried again, but still his legs refused to lift their bodies. Finally, on the third try, his limbs hesitantly cooperated. Slowly, the man rose off the ground, breath huffing as he used his dwindling strength to lift not one, but two bodies. 

 

Bitter reality started setting in, and Seongwoo started to consider the possibility that they may not make it. Tears welled up in his eyes as he advanced bit by bit. What would Guanlin think, he wondered. What of Sungwoon? He loathed the sentiments pouring into his heart at that moment. He no longer had the strength to stop it: the truth that he didn’t want to face. He cared. He’d started caring about people. It was not his job to care about them, not something he’d aimed for on his mission of liberation. Yet, it happened. Now, suddenly, not returning to Castle Jeon, or returning to anywhere, presented itself as a terrifying prospect.

 

Seongwoo felt powerless to defy fate. He merely proceeded with small steps and prayed. Sometimes he felt guilty that he only approached God when in need, but guilt did not stop him from begging, pleading for something. Anything. Any small glimmer of light in the impossibly pitch black night. Any minute sign to assure him that all his life’s toil and struggle hadn’t been for naught. He prayed that his last memories would not belong to the Kang Kingdom or King Daniel or bastard bandits who ran off in the night.

 

The concubine stopped.

 

He stopped dead in his tracks.

 

He wondered if he’d been shown an illusion, a mirage, a trick of the meager inklings of moonlight piercing the clouds.

 

As if gingerly placed there by God’s own hands, there sat their savior. Their savior looked shanty and small, and Seongwoo briefly considered that it was a mirage. However, upon approaching the structure more closely, he discovered that he had not been hallucinating. In the middle of the forest, sitting in a tiny clearing was a tiny cottage. 

 

Cautious considerations ran through Seongwoo’s head: Was it safe? Was it inhabited? Would they be caught with ease if they used it for shelter? The considerations were reflected upon for a brief moment before getting shoved to the wayside by primal need. He felt sore. Daniel no doubt felt immense pain, and they both needed shelter. Shelter happened to be in front of them. Therefore, Seongwoo decided: they were going to use the shelter. There were no flames flickering in the window and no smoke came from the small column of stone cropping out of the rooftop. Surely, he figured, nobody would mind if they borrowed it for the night.

 

The concubine and his limping Master hobbled up to the door with a renewed determination and quickness. Seongwoo, disregarding any potential consequence, kicked the door in roughly. Thankfully the crudely crafted doorway wasn’t particularly sturdy, and its rusted lock gave way easily, granting the two access. With no light coming in whatsoever, the two were plunged into a nearly impossible darkness.

 

Haphazardly, the concubine reached his free arm out, feeling around for anything as his eyes slowly began carving out vague shapes in the pitch black. The place seemed to be the size of a closet, even smaller due to the miscellaneous objects occupying it. Thankfully no living thing appeared to be inhabiting the space in that moment. If Seongwoo had to guess, villagers used it as a makeshift hunting cabin when the weather was favorable. He had an inkling that they wouldn’t be bothered in the immediate future by any impulsive hunters. 

  
The two shivered together as they navigated the new space. It was far from glamorous, but compared to the torrential downpour of the forest’s natural maze, it was heaven. There were four walls, a roof that had no apparent leaks, and a fireplace. In that moment, their needs were served.

 

Soon, the blurry lumps of darkness started to form somewhat distinguishable objects. The stones of the fireplace rose up the wall opposite the entrance. A stack of something (wood, Seongwoo hoped) sat on one side of it. On the other, he couldn’t quite tell. A trunk, perhaps. Amorphous looking things hung on the walls; Seongwoo doubted they were any sort of tapestry or banner, judging by their shape he guessed they were hides. Something to the far side of the room sat tall, close to a window, with more shapes piled on top of it. Sitting against the same wall of the entrance sat the biggest form. Seongwoo kicked it, and the object gave slightly with a soft “shiff” noise: a bed.

 

“Here, lay down,” Seongwoo said quietly, leaning down so Daniel could untangle himself from the concubine’s grip. Without a word, the other obliged, slowly crumbling down onto the hay mattress. “Hold on.” The concubine muttered as he explored the room more freely.

 

“Come on, come on, come on, come on…” The concubine felt around the fireplace, fingers tracing the sides, the hearth, and the mantlepiece. “Yes!” He said upon feeling something cool and solid beneath his fingers. He grabbed the object in one hand, feeling around for something else with the other. When his fingers landed on a jagged rock, he grabbed it as well, placing them down near him. 

 

Eagerly, Seongwoo grabbed wood from beside the fireplace and threw it into the hearth. He picked up the curved firesteel he’d found in one hand and the chunk of flint that had been with it in the other. In a quick flicking motion, he swiped the two against one another, and for a brief moment a spark lit up the room. Though the first spark hadn’t been enough, he tried again. And again. And again. 

 

His stomach dipped with despair when his third attempt yielded no results, but he suddenly remembered that he hadn’t put any kindling in the hearth. After a few more moments of swinging his hand blindly, he found what felt like kindling, skinny little sticks, and threw them beneath the logs. He struck the firesteel and the flint together once more, and sparks sputtered out, dropping onto the kindling and gradually eating away at it. He knew starting a fire meant running the risk of being caught, but he thought the thick rain and thicker trees would provide adequate cover so late at night. Ong certainly didn’t plan on leaving the mortal realm by freezing to death.

 

“Thank God,” Seongwoo heaved a sigh of relief. He turned around to make sure Daniel hadn’t died (which he hadn’t) and shoved some wood behind the door so it would remain shut in lieu of being kicked in. As light filled the room, Seongwoo could slowly make out more and more of what really had been inside. Had his circumstances been better, he would have felt proud of himself for correctly guessing so many things. Just as he’d thought: large hides hung across the walls of one side. Wood sat beside the stone fireplace, and the bed of hay laid on the ground not too far opposite the hearth. On the far side of the tiny cottage, the ambiguous pile of lumps turned out to be a table with various bottles sitting on it. 

 

The concubine strode over to the table, lifting the bottles. He quirked an eyebrow upon seeing they were corked, and uncorked one, giving it a sniff. His eyes watered and his face twisted as the fumes entered his nostrils. He gave the bottle contents another disquisitive whiff, this time more carefully, and nodded to himself. Though he himself still felt clammy, sore, and miserably cold, there were other things that were more urgent.

 

“Master?” Seongwoo spoke softly. Hearing no response, he picked up the bottle and took it to the plain bed of hay. Daniel had already taken the liberty of sprawling out, his eyes half-lidded and mouth slightly ajar with labored breaths. He seemed to be half conscious. “Master?” Seongwoo called again, taking a seat on the small bed next to the King.

 

“Mn,” Daniel responded. The concubine groaned internally. He reminded himself that his act of kindness would earn him extremely good favor in God’s eyes. Or so he hoped.

 

“Please, sit up,” Seongwoo said, looping his arm around the other’s shoulders once more. With the concubine’s help, the King sat upright. He turned to look at Seongwoo, but his eyes appeared muddled, confused. It unsettled the more lucid of the two. “Drink this,” The concubine demanded, putting the bottle to the other’s lips. His highness leaned heavily on the other, lips opening as the other tilted the bottleneck downwards. One could hardly describe the action he’d taken as “drinking”, more of the substance dripped down the man’s chin than his throat.

 

Daniel immediately sputtered and coughed as he swallowed the contents, some of his consciousness snapping back into place, “Oh, God,” he cried. “What is that?”

 

“Rum,” Ong replied, unhooking the clasp at the King’s cloak and tossing it aside, “Not as nice as what you’re used to, but you’re going to need it.”

 

“What for?” The King asked, still slightly dazed.

 

“For this,” Seongwoo yanked at his highness’s shirt, tearing the already dilapidated garment further. After exposing his wounded shoulder he unceremoniously splashed the crude distilled substance onto the wound, eliciting a scream of agony. Daniel’s body convulsed and he gasped as he tried to bear the pain. When the initial surge subsided, the King, though still slightly hazy, seemed much more alert.

 

“Are you trying to kill me?!” Daniel whined.

 

“Why would I drag you all the way to shelter if I wanted to kill you?!”

 

“You did, though…” The King slurred, “You did want to kill me.” The words hung heavily in the air. 

 

Seongwoo’s annoyed expression slackened, he softened his tone, “Your wounds will get infected if we don’t clean them.” He redirected the conversation.

 

The King sighed,“How… How many more times are you going to have to do that?” He asked, shuddering from the residual stinging.

 

“As many times as it takes,” Seongwoo replied. He took the liberty of ripping off a relatively clean strip of the King’s shirt and used it to gently clean the wound on his shoulder. The wounded man winced. Seongwoo asked,“Can you sit up yourself?”

 

“Yes,” Daniel mumbled back, sitting up somewhat more straightly.

 

“Good.”

 

The two carried on in silence as the concubine tended his Master’s wound; the fire crackled and his highness occasionally gasped or winced, but aside from that, only the sound of pattering rain filled the cottage. 

 

Seongwoo helped his highness remove his boots and torn up hose. The King braced himself for pain, and the process was repeated on the back of his ankle. He inhaled sharply and clenched at the sheets, quaking as the other tended to the injury with caring regard.

 

The night blurred. 

 

Time ticked on. 

 

Had minutes gone by? 

 

Hours? 

 

Neither could tell; they merely coexisted, determined to survive the night, to wake up the next morning alive and as well as they possibly could be. Daniel phased in and out of consciousness as Seongwoo worked to clean up the mess that had been a man just hours earlier.

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo groaned, muttering something under his breath.

 

“Mn- Wh-what is it?” The King asked. He’d been aroused from another one of his spells of unconsciousness. The concubine frowned; he looked the man before him up and down, evaluating his work. There were no bandages in the tiny cottage, so Seongwoo had to make do by ripping up some of the worn linens that were piled beside the bed. 

 

“Strip,” The concubine demanded.

 

“Wh-”

 

“On second thought, just- Help me.”

 

“Wha-?”

 

Seongwoo didn’t wait a second longer and began yanking off the tattered remains of clothing his highness wore. He thought that, perhaps, assuming he survived, he would be glad that he’d read so many miscellaneous books. 

 

Whether his highness attempted to help or not, Seongwoo couldn’t tell. The man’s overall awareness seemed to diminish with each passing second, and he visibly struggled to remain conscious. After fighting with finicky knots and closures, he finally managed to peel the man’s hunting garments off, throwing them into a pile of dirty, bloodstained cloth. Daniel shivered and hugged himself; goosebumps pricked his deeply bruised skin.

 

The concubine disregarded any sort of etiquette or courtesy typically granted to those who’d been stripped and finished dressing the man’s wounds. The dressings were clumsy at best, but Seongwoo felt confident the man would not bleed out within the next dozen or so hours. It was adequate. He thought Daniel had done fairly well in tolerating the treatment after the initial shock of alcohol seeping into his wounds.

 

“You can rest now,” Seongwoo whispered, standing up to find some sort of covering for the man. 

 

He sighed; he felt immensely drained. His limbs were sore, and he’d gotten a few scrapes himself. Whether it was due to residual panic or generalized numbness from the cold and wet, the pain barely registered. Drips of water still ran down his own body, and the faint, metallic taste of blood had long settled on his tongue. Regardless of his own condition, the man remained awake, aware that there were still a few precautions he needed to take.

 

A coarse blanket sat in the heap of linens by the mattress, and Seongwoo unceremoniously threw it on top of the King’s shaking form. He snatched a couple of the large hides hanging against the wall and threw them on top of the man as well. It would have to be enough, he thought.

 

The concubine repeated the treatment on himself; he winced as searing stabs of pain trickled into his bones upon cleaning his own scrapes. Stripping his various layers, he wrung each one out, watching the puddle by his feet grow with each article removed. Though he felt frigid and clammy, it was a more appealing alternative to being both of those things while also being soaking wet. 

 

When he’d finished taking care of his own relatively minor woods, he draped a hide over his bare shoulders and threw another log onto the fire. He took a seat in front of the fireplace and sat statue still for some ambiguous measure of time. 

 

He wasn’t sure how long he remained there, huddled beneath some ambiguous hide, staring aimlessly into the flames that danced in the hearth.

 

What a life, Seongwoo thought, what a life I have managed to lead to get me to this point. 

 

Part of him wanted to cry, part of him wanted to shout; however, he felt entirely too tired to do any such thing. He felt numb, like every strong assertion that had so venomously prodded him to that point had faded, dulled. He’d just spent hours trying to save the life of a man he’d convinced himself he despised, a man who stood for everything he hated. 

  
Why? He asked himself. He wondered if the King would ask him the same question. He wasn’t sure what he would answer when the time came.

 

“Mn…” A sound roused the concubine’s attention. Seongwoo turned and quirked an eyebrow. Shockingly, Daniel was awake. Whether he had woken up recently or had never fallen asleep in the first place, Seongwoo did not know.

 

“Don’t bother speaking, there’s no point,” Seongwoo told him hoarsely.

 

“Mn…” The King persisted, apparently determined to deliver his thought. “C… Cold,” He finally sputtered out.

 

Seongwoo’s eyebrows raised in realization. He glanced at the other side of the room to search for any more hides to heap on top of the man. Unfortunately those yet unused were much smaller, likely rabbits or foxes; they would provide little cover or comfort. Suddenly, an idea sparked in Seongwoo’s head. The thought would have repulsed him typically, but he was far, far beyond caring. Survival took priority, and the inclination to protect any sort of dignity or pride had long departed. Standing up, the concubine tossed the hide he’d been holding on top of the pile and slid beneath the rough woven cloth that served as a blanket.

 

Daniel immediately clung to the other, and a chill ran through Seongwoo’s body upon feeling the other man’s ice cold skin against his. Eventually, the frigidity faded, giving way to a serviceable semblance of warmth, and with it, so did Seongwoo’s consciousness.

 

* * *

 

“ _ Boom _ !”

 

The small crowd of nobles huddled in the villa’s study jumped in unison at the thunderous sound of a slamming door. Darkening the entrance to the space was an imposing figure of pure, unadulterated infuriation. Torrents of water cascaded down the man’s waxed cloak, and he left a trail of muddied footprints as he trudged toward the people sitting on the plush chaises of the study, sipping at steaming cup of tea.

 

“General!” Yoon Jisung, the King’s advisor, was the first to speak. He furrowed his brows at the younger man, “You cannot be slamming and stomping about the villa like that. Not after what everyone’s just experienced. You’re going to frighten the entire damn villa!”

 

“What he means is-” Duke Choi Minki cut in cooly, “-please, take a seat. Have some tea. Rest. You are not going to do King Daniel any good if you are exhausted or compromised.” 

 

“As if I’m going to do him any good sitting on my ass!” General Park bellowed angrily at the cluster of noblemen. “Or have you forgotten? That’s our  _ King  _ out there! Out in the wet, cold storm. How can any of you be so calm about this?!”

 

“Calm?” Jisung retorted. He placed his porcelain cup and saucer on a nearby table and stood up, “Does anyone in here look calm to you?!” He gestured to the other two men sitting in the study. Duke Choi’s typically bright complexion had been darkened with deep-set circles beneath his eyes. Purple and green bruises ran down his face, disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. Jisung had certainly looked better himself. An arrow had grazed his ear, causing him to lose a noticeable chunk of one of his lobes. Stripes of scratches from wayward branches stretched down his face as if inflicted by the claws of a feral beast.

 

Perhaps most unsettling was the condition of their host: Duke Hwang.

 

He’d sustained no apparent injury; not a single knick or bump appeared on his skin. However, this complexion had taken on that of a ghost. His skin paled so that it rivaled even the whiteness of porcelain or rice. His eyes affixed themselves to something in the distance that nobody could quite point out. He’d been staring in a single spot since they’d sat him down in the study, but he hadn’t said a word. Occasionally his body shivered, but no other indication of lucidity made itself known.

 

“He’s probably dead,” Minki muttered disdainfully.

 

“What did you say?” Jihoon clenched a fist angrily.

 

“Wh- I- I didn’t say anythin-”

 

“What the hell did you say?!” Jihoon rapidly closed the gap from the entrance of the room to Duke Choi and took a fistful of the man’s shirt. He lifted the slender noble with ease, forcing the other to meet his eyes. Despite his clear disadvantage in terms of capabilities and stature, Minki met the General’s gaze with a fire of his own.

 

“I said: the King is probably dead.”

 

General Park lifted his free fist, readying it to smash into the Duke’s face,“How dare you-”

 

“That’s enough!” Jisung interrupted, yanking on the back of both of their collars harshly. “Neither of you are helping the situation.”

 

“Wh- I’m not helping? I’m  _ not helping _ ?!” Jihoon gasped, “I’m the only one who’s done anything!”

 

The advisor crossed his arms,“The only thing you’ve done is endanger yourself. It’s dark, storming, and God knows if those- those cloaked people are still out there! We’ve already lost our King, the last thing we need is to lose one of the Kingdom’s most formidable Generals.”

 

“Don’t say that,” Devastation fell upon Jihoon’s face at the mere insinuation of fatal harm coming to his highness. 

 

“We’re all thinking it,” Minki chimed in with a huff.

 

“Shut up! What the  _ hell  _ is your purpose for instigating?” The advisor yelled.

 

“The only thing I’m instigating is realism. Realistically, the King is dead. The sooner we accept that, the sooner we can move on from this nightmare.”

 

“You seem awfully eager to move on,” Jihoon growled. 

 

“Spare me from your implications,” Minki rolled his eyes, plopping back down on the lounge.

 

Jihoon narrowed his eyes at the Duke. He looked as if he desired to say something, but refrained from letting any offensive words spill out.

 

“I’m going back out,” The General said.

 

“Wha- Now?!” Jisung’s eyes blew open with shock, “General- Jihoon, you’ve just returned. You can’t possibly think going back out there is a good idea. It’s too damn dark to see anything, and- and what if you get caught by one of those bandits?!”

 

Jihoon responded through gritted teeth, “God do I  _ hope  _ one of them finds me.”

 

“Jihoon, please, be reasonable. You’re- you’re exhausted and distressed. King Daniel would not want you to go out in this state. What would he think?”

 

“Don’t- don’t use him against me like that. Don’t put words in his mouth. We wouldn’t have to wonder what he’d think if he was here. But he’s not. He’s out there, cold and alone, in danger and- and- oh, God.” The General’s resolve began to crumble. Tears stung his eyes, and his breath caught in his throat. He stumbled, clumsily sitting down on an unoccupied chaise across from the others. “Oh, god.” He said again, this time quieter. Tears begin to fall from the General’s eyes, and instantaneously he transforms from fearsome warlord to forlorn child. “Daniel…” He cried. Jisung heaved a heavy sigh, walking over to the trembling young man. He patted the younger man’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

 

“H-hey, I’m- I’m sorry.” Minki mumbled, “I- I- didn’t mean it, I-”

 

“Let’s move on from that,” Jisung cut him off before the man could trigger even further duress from the sobbing warlord. “We need to look forward. Jihoon,” The eldest turned to the man he sat next to and squeezed his shoulder, “I understand your concern for the King. He is a dear friend of mine as well. You must have faith that he has pulled through, that he is okay. In your condition, you cannot help him. I know it sounds odd, but you need to find the strength to rest. Can you do that? For him?”

 

Jihoon sniffled, finally taking his head out of his hands; he looked at the advisor and nodded in response.

 

Jisung lowered his voice, hugging the young General closer,“Good. Dry off. Go get some rest. Hug your Guanlin tight. You’ve had a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”

 

“You’re right,” Jihoon responded, barely a whisper. He wiped his tears and stood up, dismissing himself with a curt nod. Jisung slid further down the lounge’s fluffy cushions. A groan escaped his lips. 

 

“We all ought to go to bed,” He said tiredly.

 

Duke Choi sipped his tea and nodded in agreement. The advisor and the Duke finished their warm beverages in silence. They each stared off into nothingness, contemplating the events of the night, perhaps even the events of their lives.

 

When he finished, Jisung left his empty cup on a table and mumbled a brief farewell to 

Minki. He didn’t bother listening to the other’s response. The advisor could feel heavy weight tugging at his eyelids on his trip back to his guest room in the villa. He knew the next day would bring many trials, but he did not anticipate being able to rest adequately. The King’s advisor swung open the door to his chambers, and he heaved a deep sigh of relief.

 

“Come here,” The other man in the room muttered tiredly. Jisung closed the door behind him and dashed into the other’s waiting arms. He hugged his Sungwoon tightly, fingers clinging to the fabric of his concubine’s linen sleeping clothes. 

  
“Thank God,” Jisung murmured into the crook of Sungwoon’s neck. Even though it had been hours since the incident, he still felt disturbed. The thought of losing Sungwoon, of anything happening to him at all, upset the advisor profoundly. 

  
The two remained interlocked for an indiscernible amount of time, each breathing one another in, full of relief. In the ensuing chaos after the attack, they’d hardly been given time to look in one another’s direction. It felt gratifying to finally be able to express the admiration and sheer relief they held toward one another.

 

Jisung kissed the top of his lover’s head as they embraced. He relished in the warmth of the other. 

 

* * *

 

Dull pain radiated throughout Seongwoo’s body when light began trickling into his vision. His head throbbed, and soon the bleariness of sleep faded from his vision. The first thing he saw was a fireplace. The logs that had once blazed in the hearth had been reduced to smoldering ashes. Despite the sad state of the fire, Seongwoo felt warm, excessively so. He could feel a sheet of sweat had settled on his body in his sleep. Pressed against his back, the source of the heat breathed steadily in their sleep.

 

With how he’d witnessed the man sleeping, it came as no surprise to Seongwoo that their limbs had tangled with one another during the night. He thinks, perhaps, that he would have been inclined to leap out of bed immediately in different circumstances. However, in his present state of mind, the warmth beneath the blanket possessed too strong a grip.

  
Given the fact that the two had survived the night, Seongwoo concluded that their pursuers had no intention of seeking them out. He used that assertion to justify him staying beneath the blanket and hides, just a tad longer. He melted into the hay mattress and relished in the warmth. Blinking his eyes back closed, his mind hazily recalled the previous night’s events.

 

He prayed that those closest to him, Sungwoon and Guanlin, were okay; that was the first thought that occurred to him. So many assailants had chased the King and the concubine, Seongwoo thought that they likely hadn’t had the numbers to mount a pursuit nearly as large scale on the others. 

 

Daniel stirred behind Seongwoo, pulling the concubine closer. Memories flooded Seongwoo: images of the King, shaking pitifully on the ground. The way he had asked for death made the concubine’s chest hollow out. What disconcerted him more was the fact that he hadn’t had it in his heart to readily deliver it. He wondered if it would have been the right thing to do for his wellbeing. He hoped that he would not come to regret his decision to exercise mercy. 

 

Finally, Seongwoo mustered the resolve to leave the bed. Despite the resistance of his aching limbs, he stepped onto the cold, dusty floor sluggishly. The concubine winced as he felt each and every minute prick of pain knock on his muscles and bones. Leaving the cocoon of warmth beneath the blanket caused a shiver to run down his spine, and goosebumps dotted his bruised skin. The King roused in lieu of the loss of the other’s body heat. For a second, Seongwoo thought the man would wake; however, he merely tossed, chattering unconsciously before settling back into a deep sleep.

 

“You’re a heavy sleeper, aren’t you?” Seongwoo asked the sleeping man. He wasn’t sure why he’d bothered, he knew no answer would come. He rationalized it as an attempt to remain sane, letting words and ideas out thoughtlessly. 

 

The concubine hugged himself in an attempt to get warm. He searched for their discarded clothes, for any cover, really. Unfortunately, in the urgency and fatigue of the previous night, he hadn’t thought to hang them up to dry. Various articles of clothing littered the floor of the tiny cottage. Some were heaped in small piles, stuck together with wetness, while others mystically managed to get tossed across the room.

 

Shivering and uncomfortable, Seongwoo sighed. He frowned as he collected the damp articles of clothing. Rain fell from the sky in thick sheets, necessitating everything being dried indoors. The conscious one of the two haphazardly draped garments over various surfaces in hopes that they would dry before long. It wasn’t much in terms of immediate help, but Seongwoo appreciated it as a start in gathering means for survival. 

 

He assumed that the King would be unable to walk properly when he woke up. Injuries in tandem with bad natural conditions fared badly for the pair. Consequently, Seongwoo resigned himself to the fact that they would be unable to move for at least the day. The thought of remaining, of the off chance of being found, steeped Seongwoo’s reservations in anxiety. The significantly worse alternative of being found stumbling through the woods kept him from bearing on the consequences of remaining too much. Until his highness could move, they would have to make do with what they had surrounding him.

  
Seongwoo grabbed one of their cloaks and gave it a brisk shake, watching the droplets fly off onto the floor. He grabbed the less wet of the two shirts present (he couldn’t distinguish them due to how dirty both were) and pulled it over his head. The concubine threw the cloak over his shoulders and slipped on the nearest pair of boots he could find. He plodded over to the door, opening it quietly.

 

The moment the door opened, the volume of the rain grew deafeningly loud. Seongwoo could scarcely hear his thoughts. He trudged near the entrance of the cottage, clinging to the meager bits of the roof that stuck out enough to provide cover. He hoped the cottage’s owner had left something of use outside. Thankfully, by the grace of God and hunting villagers, he found a few things of use. 

 

Leaning against the structure near the doorway was an ax. It appeared to be in decent condition though a bit rusty. Seongwoo thought of no immediate use for such an item - the place had been stocked with adequate firewood for the median - however, he didn’t think it would hurt to have an ax. Much more handy, a bucket sat on the ground near the outer corner of the house. Seongwoo eagerly grabbed it for inspection. It looked sturdy enough, no holes, no apparent deposits of sludge or mud or whatever other grime could accumulate on a bucket kept outside. The wood had clearly seen better days, but Seongwoo did not care in the least. He trod back toward the doorway and nudged the receptacle just beyond the shelter of the roof. With how violently the rain had been hitting the ground, it wouldn’t be long before they would have a decent helping of fresh water.

 

Seongwoo circled the small cottage but found nothing more of note. Rushing back indoors, he hastily kicked some wood in front of the entrance to keep the door closed and ran toward the fire. After throwing some kindling and a few more logs on the embers, Seongwoo kicked off the boots he wore and shed the heavy cloak. Though he still felt clammy, he didn’t feel eager to further explore covered in wet clothes. The concubine began studying the interior of the cottage more closely with the aid of light. He opened the chest that sat next to the fireplace first. Wrought iron pots were inside the trunk next to the fireplace along with a few stirring implements and a sack of rice. 

 

In daylight, he could see various types of jars on the surface of the table with more clarity. Some matched the bottle of rum he’d splashed on the King earlier, others were different in size or color. The majority of them were tall and dark; Seongwoo learned that these were full of rum. Short, stout ones that were slightly green in color had preserves - pickled cabbage and radish to be precise. The acidity of vinegar stung Seongwoo’s nose as he opened one to take a whiff. Clear jars held preserves - though Seongwoo found nothing to accompany them. It relieved him immensely to know that they had at least some sustenance within their grasp. He still remained wary at its quality, but it seemed safe enough to nibble at.

 

The small space held little more; he found a few additional hides and some frayed rope. Nothing particularly useful. Had they possessed food that could serve as adequate bait, Seongwoo would have attempted to make a snare; however, everything they had had been processed in some way or another. It would likely wash away in the rain even if set in a trap.

 

After assessing what was available, Seongwoo snatched one of the jars and sat on the edge of the bed. He inspected the fruit preserves inside, and after concluding it wouldn’t kill him, took a small bite. His face pinched at the tartness hitting his tongue, but he felt thankful to even have something edible in his mouth. Another wave of exhaustion washed over Seongwoo, and the pangs of dull pain he’d felt upon waking up reminded him of their presence. He prayed Daniel’s condition would be at least a slight improvement over the previous night. The cottage had not been equipped for injuries, and a negative development could prove disastrous.

 

“...Nnn…” A groaning noise interrupted Seongwoo’s thoughts. The concubine turned to the source of it. The scattered heap of hides and linen on top of the mattress began shuffling about as if it had been roused by Seongwoo’s thoughts. From it emerged the face of a very sleepy, dazed man. Ong couldn’t help but notice that the man looked more infantile than before. Hair tousled and eyes struggling to fully open, he looked like a child who’d been woken up in the morning for lessons. An injured child, but a child no less.

 

With a great amount of effort, the half-asleep man sat himself up. His face contorted with discomfort as he labored to get himself into an upright position. Seongwoo inspected the man from afar, noting that a few of his wounds would need fresh bandages. When Daniel finally managed to sit up, he looked around with befuddlement.

 

“Wha…” He muttered, his voice a croak, “Where am I?”

 

Seongwoo sighed, leaning back against the table at the far end of the cottage. He had a feeling that the King was going to take awhile to collect himself. The King’s eyes met the concubine’s and they widened. He jerked backward abruptly, but he didn’t go far. His entire body seized up and he winced in pain.

 

“You…” Daniel chewed on his lip and wrung a hand through his hair slowly, “You… Saved me?” His tone wasn’t one of disbelief, but one of inquiry; he struggled to recall the events of the previous night. It started to occur to Seongwoo that he might have suffered heavier damage than anticipated.

 

He perched on the edge of the bed and spoke softly, “Do you remember what happened last night?” Daniel stared at Seongwoo for a minute with no response; he glanced around the room in an attempt to piece together the fragments of memory that’d been left shattered in his mind.

 

“We were… hunting,” He murmured. The gears in his head started turning, and Seongwoo could see memories slot in piece by piece as the man went on, “Yes. We’d started chasing after the deer- or so we’d thought.” The concubine strained to hear the man’s muttering over the pattering rain outside. 

 

“We were attacked,” Daniel’s face darkened at the mention of their assault. He swallowed nervously and shuddered slightly, “Their cloaks were dark, and… I didn’t see their faces. We got separated.” He hugged his blanket more tightly, face contorting ever so slightly with pain at the movement. “I ran and- and you ran, I think. But you were there… later? It begins getting obscured once we dismount. I recall… Pain. I believe I was… I was floating?” He shook his head, “That doesn’t sound right.” 

 

“You are correct,” Seongwoo assured softly, “You were-” The scarring image of the King’s limping body bobbing in the rushing torrent of water flashed through Seongwoo’s head, “-you were thrown in.”

 

“Yes, that sounds… That sound about right. I- I suppose. Then we- Then I…” Confusion crossed the King’s face anew, and his pupils shifted hastily between the concubine and the ground, “Seongwoo?” He asked hoarsely, “Did you try to kill me?”

 

Seongwoo drew back slightly, swallowing a bundle of nerves that’d tangled itself in his throat. He looked away ashamedly, unsure of how to answer. It seemed so silly to him now: to try to murder a man who would have easily died if left alone. It seemed inhumane to even think of taking advantage of such a creature. Sure, he supposed, one could see it as being merciful, cutting short their suffering. However, he hadn’t deluded himself into believing his intentions so noble.

 

“I see,” Is all Daniel said in response to the other man’s change in demeanor, “But…” He grasped his head in his hands; his voice grew thicker,“But I am here. Why- why am I here? Why didn’t you finish me off? Why didn’t you let me die-”

 

“That’s enough,” Seongwoo cut him off, “Questions and answers can be addressed later, right now you need rest.” The concubine genuinely agreed with the words he’d said, but he also harbored an ulterior motive in misdirecting the man. In truth, the concubine wasn’t sure he could answer King Daniel’s questions honestly. He lacked the ability to clearly answer the questions he’d even posed to himself.

 

“What’s gonna happen to us?” The hunched over, injured King asked.

 

“For now, we bide our time. It is my guess that those who made it back have organized a search party. You are the King, at the very least they will want proof of your condition before declaring you dead. Either they will find us, or when your ankle is in better condition, we can attempt to navigate these woods and find them. Or- I suppose there ought to be a village nearby. Perhaps we can make contact with them.”

 

“Do you think they’ll find us?”

 

“I- I’m not sure, but I imagine they’ll try very hard to find their King-”

 

“I- I meant the other ones the- the cloaked men.”

 

Seongwoo frowned. He truly felt uncertain about it. He wasn’t sure who exactly those men were or what they’d been instructed to do- if they’d been led at all or merely opportunistic.

 

“I believe those men were mere bandits. Perhaps they’d been lurking about the villa and caught wind of the King being there. Probably just some unsettled civilians who’d lost their senses of morality and sanity. They threw you into the river and ran off. If they were keen to see the job through they would have- have-” Seongwoo wanted to say “slit your throat”, but it seemed awfully insensitive at the time. 

 

The point had been made, and despite his general disorientation, the King appeared to understand what he’d implied. Even so, the statement had been another bold-faced lie. The cloaked men had been far too organized to be a group of simply “unsettled civilians”. They managed to effectively route and cut off the King and the concubine as if they were the game being hunted. Seongwoo supposed that, in essence, they were. Their job would have likely gone without a hitch had it not been for the concubine’s presence. They probably had expected the King’s companion to leave the man for dead. It made sense to believe Seongwoo had little incentive to keep the King alive. Depending on the amount of information the cloaked men had gathered prior, they may have had reason to believe that Ong wanted the King dead.

 

They would not have been far from the truth in such a case.

 

However, in the end, the assailants miscalculated. They failed to account for one variable; the one factor that could completely undermine their operation: Seongwoo not leaving the King to die. He’d refused to turn tail and flee, to watch the man’s limp body float away lifelessly. In the end, it was a sloppy job on the assailants’ part that ensured the King’s relative safety and wellbeing.

 

Daniel nodded in understanding,“Right…”

 

“They probably won’t return,” Seongwoo added in a way he hoped sounded reassuring, “But I digress. Do you recall anything after-” The concubine almost said “I attempted to kill you” but quickly corrected himself, “-after all that?”

 

The King wracked his brain; his mouth opened to speak but closed quickly after. He finally shook his head and answered.

 

“I… Do not. Not really. Just pain. We, um, we walked, didn’t we? We had to get here somehow. After that, um, more pain. You treated my wounds with something, didn’t you?”

 

“The term ‘treated’ is a generous take on it, really. I dressed them, and it appears you’ve not bled out during the night. However, some of them are going to need new bandages.”

  
Daniel frowned, “What about you?” He asked, concern painting itself across his features.

 

Seongwoo felt his heart dip slightly with a sensation he assumed was guilt. He wondered how the King could possibly ask such a thing after all that had happened. It was  _ he  _ that had been assaulted. He was the one who’d been targeted, brutally attacked, tossed into a river, and left for dead. Worst of all: the man to whom he showed concern had attempted to kill him just hours earlier. 

 

The concubine responded, “I’m alright. The injuries I’ve sustained are superficial.”

 

Suddenly, the King’s face lit up with a spark of realization; his eyes widened, “Wh- What about everyone else?! I- How- how is everyone else? Do we know? Do- do we- Did you see anything or- or- Oh, God. My- my Kingdom-” He grimaced as another surge of pain ran through his body.

 

“Calm yourself,” Seongwoo said, “You cannot be concerned about everyone else right now. I can’t speak with certainty, but if I had to guess, you were their main objective. I’m sure everyone else is fine. When you are able to walk and when this rain clears, we can begin to navigate our way back. Until then you must have faith in the abilities of those you put your trust in. I’m sure the Prince is running the Castle smoothly. The General is likely assuring everyone’s safety at the villa.” The concubine had never envisioned himself to be in a position where he would be trying to console the King.

 

Daniel nodded weakly. His body began shuddering and he collapsed back onto the bed. He inhaled sharply through his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. The sight drove a stake of woe through Seongwoo’s chest. He wanted to detest the King. Part of him adamantly held onto resentment for the man; however, he could hardly bring himself to harbor ill will in their particular situation. Part of him feared that he would regret nursing the man to health, but, be it goodness or pity, something much more powerful prevailed over his resistance.

 

Seongwoo sighed, looking at the man on the mattress with pity. He snatched a bottle off the table and paced over to the King’s crumpled form.

 

“Take a swig,” He said, holding out the bottle to his Master, “You’ll probably need it. I’m going to need to rebandage some of those wounds.” A look of dread crossed Daniel’s features and he grabbed the bottle that had been extended to him. He gasped and his face scrunched at the burning sensation down his throat. When he was finished reeling from the vicious bite of the crude alcohol, Ong grabbed the bottle from him and tipped it to his own lips. 

 

“Oh, God,” The concubine’s eyes teared up as he sputtered, “That is awful. That’s just terrible.”

 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a strange, choked noise sounded out from next to him. Seongwoo’s eyes darted to the man next to him, a twinge of terror stopping his heart momentarily. His eyes widened at what he saw.

 

The strained utterance wasn’t some dying gasp or wail of pain from the King. It was laughter.

 

Albeit, the laughter sounded more like a breathy croak than a laugh, but it was laughter nonetheless. A tiny grin teased the edges of the King’s lips for an iota of an instant until pain (likely brought on by the laughter) seized his features once more. The chuckles turned into coughs, and the small instant of joy quickly vanished.

 

“Alright, I’ll start with the one on your shoulder,” Seongwoo said, the sting of rum still tingling his tongue. He reached for linen to rip into fresh wound dressings and began the process of tending to King Daniel once more.

 

* * *

 

Sungwoon hugged the baby chick’s shoulder more tightly, gently stroking the top of the other’s hand with his thumb. Even JR, an older man who barely knew Guanlin, had gathered around to comfort him. He kept a firm, reassuring hand on the boy’s knee, squeezing gingerly from time to time.

 

All hunting activities had been suspended. Most of the hunting party had been rushed home, but a few remained to support efforts to look for his majesty. The concubines had been given a small study to pass the time in. Few remained: Guanlin, Sungwoon, Duke Choi’s JR and Baekho. Baekho had been in and out, likely running small errands for the Duke. 

 

Though Sungwoon had demanded Jisung allow him to aid in some way, Jisung rejected his offer. He’d told his concubine that the best way he could help was by assuring the others were sound of mind and taken care of. The eldest concubine despised being essentially dismissed, but he understood his Master’s perspective.

 

Never had Sungwoon seen Guanlin so thoroughly upset. By the time the young boy had arrived at the castle, despite everything, he’d exuded a bright, cheery aura. He’d nearly driven Sungwoon mad with all of his questions and chattering when he’d first arrived. Ever since, the advisor’s ward couldn’t recall a time where the boy had not been smiling and jovial. The boy’s state of despair felt profoundly amiss to watch. It made the eldest’s heart wrench.

 

“Tea as you asked,” A servant said quietly, approaching with a tray of steaming cups. Sungwoon nodded, muttering a hushed thank you and gesturing for her to put on a nearby table. He grabbed one of the cups and held it out to Guanlin.

 

“Your tea,” He said, eyes boring into the dazed chick’s glassy gaze. Guanlin said nothing. He didn’t even look. Sungwoon sighed, repeating himself more insistently, “Your tea, Guanlin.” Still nothing.

 

JR bit his lip nervously and attempted to stir the forlorn child, “Guanlin? The tea is here. Why not have a cup? It’ll help soothe you.”

 

No response came.

 

Sungwoon pursed his lips impatiently; he could not fault the boy for being traumatized in the slightest. However, he found it rather taxing attempting to aid someone in need of help who refused to accept it. He himself had barely gotten any sleep; the disappearance of Seongwoo and the King had kept him worrying all night.

 

“Guanlin,” Sungwoon said kindly but firmly, “I need you to at least hold this cup of tea. Can you do that? Can you hold the cup?” He dipped his head so his gaze could meet Guanlin’s downcast one. 

 

“The warmth will help you feel better,” JR added.

 

Guanlin’s attention finally aroused. Shakily, his hands reached for the cup that had been held out to him, and he cupped the porcelain in his hands carefully. He stared at the wisps of steam dancing above it, staying silent.

 

“That’s a good boy,” Sungwoon said, giving the chick a weak smile. Fear and apprehension gnawed at the back of the older man’s head, but he stomped it down. In that moment he tasked himself with being the strong one. “It’s nice and warm, right?”

  
The chick finally responded, nodding weakly. 

 

“It’s very nice,” JR said sweetly, “Take a sip, you will like it.” He looked at the boy as if to beg him. 

 

Hands trembling, the chick lifted the cup to his lips and took the tiniest of sips. Swallowing looked to be a challenge for him, and he did so with strain on his face. He sniffled and looked down into the cup before taking another, more hearty sip.

 

After downing half of the cup, Guanlin visibly relaxed. Though he still remained in a state of disarray, a semblance of color had returned to his face, and tears no longer appeared in his eyes. He scooted closer to Sungwoon, fitting his body more snugly in the older man’s comforting arms.

 

The chick looked the eldest in the eye and muttered in a voice that could hardly register as a whisper, “I can’t lose anymore of my family, brother.”

 

Sungwoon’s out flapped open, but try as he might he couldn’t form an adequate response. He had nothing to say to the boy who had lost everyone. No words could erase the misfortune that had been thrust upon the boy’s life, and losing yet another companion, someone he loved like a brother, surely devastated him.

 

“You won’t because King Daniel and Seongwoo are going to be fine,” Sungwoon finally choked out. He tried to sound assured despite his doubt. Empty promises were, unfortunately, the only comfort he could lend. Guanlin nodded. He accepted the words well; though it was likely he didn’t believe them, the chick gave no indication of skepticism. He likely felt relieved at the offer of comfort at all.

 

Streams of rain cascaded down the etched stained glass windows of the villa study. Raindrops and rumbling thunder were the only noises heard between the three for a while. The three of them sat in silence, sipping their teas. 

 

All they could do was pray for the safe arrival of their King and his concubine.   
  


* * *

 

Bleariness cocooned Seongwoo’s senses.

 

The King had spent the majority of the day in and out of consciousness since his wounds had redressed. The ordeal had ended up being more taxing than Seongwoo had anticipated. With the daylight, the concubine had been able to make out small shards of the arrowheads lodged into the exit wounds. Picking the stony bits out took immense concentration and care (along with copious amounts of rum to soothe the patient). When the concubine had finally finished, the King was a shaking, sweaty mess. He’d passed out subsequently. Seongwoo had been feeling drowsy himself and soon followed. 

 

The day droned on in a series of misaligned awareness. One would wake up, then the other; a few hours later one would pass out leaving the still awake one alone. Seongwoo had managed to shove pickles down the King’s throat during one of their windows of alertness. Though he’d protested, stating multiple times that he had no appetite, the concubine took it upon himself to make the executive decision in the matter. He wanted to leave the woods as soon as possible, and that meant that his Master needed to have at least some strength. 

 

In his most recent spell of awakeness, he’d also managed to collect the bucket of rainwater to be boiled. Daniel had woken up soon after and groaned in pain. Seongwoo had opted to, for what felt like the hundredth time, shove a bottle of rum in the man’s general direction. The King’s grumbling had begun to wear on the concubine as well, and he uncorked a  bottle for himself.

 

After a few hours of milling about, the two had settled on the mattress with hides wrapped around them. The concubine kept the shirt he’d been wearing on, but his highness hadn’t bothered dressing. Huddled in front of the hearth, the two had begun chatting idly.

 

Initially, rum seemed like an incredible cure-all for the variety of issues that ailed the wounded pair. As time went on, it occurred to Seongwoo that, perhaps, he could have moderated their intake with more care. He burst out laughing at some offhand remark or distasteful joke that Daniel had slurred out. 

 

The last shred of sanity the concubine had informed him that he was essentially toasting with the man he most despised. More alarming was the internal discovery that all in all, he didn’t care. That was when Seongwoo had come to know he’d had a tad too much to drink. Unfortunately for his stubborn inclination to act bitter toward Daniel, he’d become too invested in the man’s recountence of a scandal he’d been roped into.

 

“My God!” Seongwoo guffawed, “Her father got involved?”

 

“Yes!” Daniel snorted. His cheeks had flushed red from the rum. Unlike Seongwoo, he’d been drinking it since he’d first woken up. However, despite the consistent consumption throughout the day, he appeared to be fairly lucid. “He vouched for her!”

 

“Oh no,” Seongwoo shook his head exaggeratedly. The world itself shook, too, as it did when one had had too much to drink. “What did he say?”

 

“He vouched for her words and morality! He- he claimed I robbed her of her purity and tried to make off without responsibilities. Seongwoo, I- I- never… I…” The King’s words slurred as he attempted to piece together his sentence between laughs, “I didn’t know who she was! I didn't’ even recognize her from court.”

 

“Shame, shame on her father speaking bold-faced lies to a King!”

 

“Yes, well, probably he thought she was telling the truth! I mean- I s’pose one would try to believe their own daughter. She stuffed pillows under her dress for God’s sake! What was he supposed to do?! Inspect the underside of her skirt?” He hardly managed the last syllable before busting out in more uproarious laughter. His face alternated between humor and pain as the fit clearly strained his injured body. Even so, he was not deterred from experiencing joy, something Seongwoo found oddly endearing in the midst of his inebriation.

 

“Insanity,” Seongwoo commented, “Insanity!”

 

“What? You’ve never been accused of impregnating a random noble girl?” Daniel asked, “Boring.”

 

“Yes, my life has been terribly boring. It was an absolute snore being chased by bandits and forced to hide in the middle of the woods.”

 

“I think I’ve heard that story before. Don’t recall enjoying it particularly.”

 

“After the part where the two men survive, it becomes quite flat. They just drink the whole time.”

 

“Drinking all day,” Daniel dramatically scoffed, “Who would do such a thing?” He punctuated the question with a swig of his rum. Seongwoo rumbled with laughter and copied the gesture, taking another sip of his own. “So, no great scandal,” The King uttered after wiping excess liquor off the sides of his mouth, “What stories have you to tell, then?”

 

“What?”

 

“Tell me a story,” His highness pouted his plush lips in the manner a temperamental child would. 

 

“Wh- Why?”

 

“You would deny a sick, injured man such a simple request?” The royal feigned offense.

 

“Wh- Fine!” Seongwoo couldn’t help but grin. He’d gone beyond being too drunk to care. He nibbled on his lower lip as he wracked his brain for a tale that seemed adequate, “Fine, okay, okay… Well-” Immediately, Daniel’s face lit up with fascination. The man even scooted closer to the concubine.

 

Seongwoo nearly rolled his eyes, but spoke instead, “Well, when I was a child… Perhaps, ten or so… I saw fireworks for the first time.”

 

Daniel gasped, “I love fireworks.”

 

“I’m sure you do,” Seongwoo chuckled. Fireworks seemed like just the type of flashy amusement that would appeal to the childish King. The concubine continued, “Continuing, I saw fireworks for the first time at some… Festivity of some sort. They were so beautiful!” Memories started flowing into Seongwoo’s mind, the visions slightly wavy and warped with the filter of drunkenness over them, “The cascading flames mesmerized me. I snuck out to the village near my home. I’d begged mother and father, but… They would not allow me to go into the village on my own. I jumped out of my window from the second floor, foolishly thinking the hedges would make for a soft landing.”

 

Daniel snorted, “I’ve had similar experiences with hedges.”

 

Seongwoo grinned, “Well, I got a few scratches, but they weren’t going to stop me from going into the village for whatever little festival they were holding. I remember how the sparks danced. It was… exhilarating. I even managed to go without getting caught! My parents were sound asleep when I returned, none the wiser.”

 

“So even as a child, you were full of mischief.”

 

“Wh- No more mischief than your average child, really!” 

  
“You say that, yet I feel there is more to this story.”

 

“Well, of course, there’s more- but! That isn’t to say this was something I did often. Getting back onto topic, I got home. The next day, I decided-” Seongwoo started giggling, “I decided, that it would be a good idea to make my own fireworks.”

 

“Oh no.”

 

“Oh, yes. I procured everything I thought necessary. Gunpowder, a rope for a fuse, more gunpowder.”

 

“I believe heaps upon heaps of gunpowder is considered a bomb.”

 

“How was I supposed to know?! It’s not as if every village has a tradesman dedicated to making those things! All I knew was: things needed to explode. Gunpowder exploded. I filled in the rest of the blanks myself. Figured a small barrel would make an adequate container.”

 

“You constructed a powder keg.”

 

“A small one!”

 

“In my own defense, sparks were generated. Though they did lack in visuals.”

  
“Where on Earth did you detonate this thing?”

 

“Too close to the stable, I can say that.”

 

“You set your stable on fire?!”

 

“No, no! Not the stable! Just one ass.”

 

“An ass?”

 

“Yes, an ass.”

 

“Like a person, or-”

 

“No, no. God, no! I did not set a human on fire. Just the poor donkey.”

 

“That’s- that’s even worse! Humans have- have bad things. Donkeys are innocent!”

 

“Not this one, he was rude. I know, because he once ate a hat I was wearing as a childhood. It scarred me.”

 

“It sounds an awful lot like you’re attempting to villainize this poor ass you burned alive.”

 

“I- He didn’t die. Hardly any of him was  _ actually  _ on fire. An ember just licked the tip of his tail is all. Burned the hair off, it smelled terrible.” Daniel scrunched his nose at the remark. “We called him Singed after that. Hair never quite grew on the end of his tail again. You needn’t worry about his wellbeing, though. True to fables, that stubborn ass lived a long life. At least, to my recollection he did…”

 

“What did your parents do?” Daniel laughed.

 

“Surprisingly, they were not very thrilled about it. I felt a bit disappointed about the whole thing. There was lots of fire, not a lot of works.” A content warmth spread throughout Seongwoo’s body. A long series of crises had led him to his present spot in life. Few things had gone right for him in the past decade or so of his existence, yet in that moment, he felt strangely alright. He could not say that his feelings were overwhelmingly positive of elated. Strangely enough, something about sitting in the middle of the woods, isolated from the world felt refreshing. 

 

There were no expectations of his behavior, no impositions of a certain role or class. He could drink near an entire bottle of rum with nobody questioning him, no entity to answer to but his own body. The man next to him may not have been his favorite person in the world, but with copious amounts of alcohol, he made splendid company. The two had skirted death, stumbled into shelter, and kept their sanities afloat in doing so. Seongwoo did not think himself particularly happy due to those facts, but he felt strangely secure, assured. He thought that perhaps things would be alright moving forward. If only for the endured resilience he had shown himself.

 

“Such simplicity,” Daniel rambled, hugging the large hide around him closer, “How I envy such simplicity…”

 

“Hm?” Seongwoo asked, coming out of his daze.

 

“Commoners lead simple lives, do they not? It seems nice. I know I shouldn’t, but sometimes I envy it.” The King said.

  
Bitterness seeped into Seongwoo’s throat, expanding down his throat into his chest, “What makes you so sure of that?”

 

“Well,” Daniel mumbled, “They have little responsibility. They’re obligated to care for their own and nothing more. I can’t imagine how much of a relief it would be to one day be told I can… Leave the nation to someone else.” He snickered.

 

“People have affairs to manage regardless of their status. They still have finances, families, businesses…”

 

“And who do they report to when they need to make decisions? The tax man? Their- their families? Perhaps they’ve elders or husbands or fathers- I- I don’t know. Do they have dozens of individuals whose only duty it is to breathe down your throat? No. It’s simple.” The King took a hearty gulp of his rum; the tips of his lips fell downward ever so slightly.

 

“Simple? These are people with nothing but responsibilities. Their days are spent trying to make ends meet. It is not as if they spend their lives just free of pressures due to lack of title. They harbor expectations like anyone else,” Seongwoo’s toned grew increasingly clipped, irritated.

 

“I don’t doubt that they have their own social- diplomatic things to worry about, but it’s much… Simpler.”

  
“Simpler?” The concubine scoffed, “You have legions of servants dedicated to making your life simple. All the things they do for you? Commoners take care of themselves. In addition to fighting and working for every resource they have to their name. How can life possibly be more complicated for you?”

 

“We do not have time for me to list everything that makes my life annoyingly complex.”

 

“Really? As far as I can tell all we have is time? Stuck in this fucking cottage. Unless, of course, you mean to imply my simple, common mind could not comprehend the great breadth of your life’s duty.” The smile that had once graced Daniel’s face had long fallen, its replacement a fragile mask of neutrality riddled with hairline fractures.

 

“You want me to list the reasons? The factors that confound my existence? Well, being King is a start.”

 

“Supreme power.  _ Such  _ a trial.” The concubine said facetiously.

 

“Ignorance is bliss, Seongwoo,” Daniel spat back, “All of my predecessors? Dead. My parents? Dead. Any extended family? Mostly dead. Do you know what a court is, Seongwoo? It is dressed up name for ‘pack of entitled nitwits’, a pack of nitwits to whom I must report to every day. I wake up every morning to tiptoe on a thread of politics, carefully balancing the wishes and needs of an entire nation. I must be kind, but not too kind, God forbid I am too kind. Yet if I enact firmness, suddenly I am being power hungry, or cruel, or self or- If you give someone one thing, in doing so you are accused by four others of taking things away from them. I- It- There is no- no balance.”

 

“Just sounds to me like you’ve got a control issue,” Seongwoo replied condescendingly.

 

“A what?”

 

“A control issue, your highness,” He heavily emphasized the syllables of the man’s title, “That issue being: you cannot control anything. Yet you are tasked with controlling everything.”

 

“Of course,” Daniel laughed wryly, “How could I forget the newest jewel on my crown of complication? A concubine who insists on vexing me to no end.”

 

“If I bring such complication into your wretched life, then why keep me around?!”

 

“As if it were that simple.”

 

“It is!” Seongwoo seethed, “It truly is. You- you let me go. You reject the offer of the gift- I don’t give a shit. Don’t act as if not keeping someone in your servitude is a great effort.”

 

“You surely must be sharper than that. Do you know nothing of politics? The importance of appearances? I- I- You’re not entitled to an elaboration.”

 

“Not entitled? Not entitled? This is my life. My existence! Am I truly not entitled to any explanation as to why I am fated to spend it beneath you? Do you hear yourself? I am captured, enslaved to you, and told to act obediently like a trained dog. You expect me to not question any of this?! ”

 

Daniel’s lips pressed into a thin line; his brows furrowed as he responded, “I expect you to use your brain.”

 

“Oh? Use my brain? To do what, exactly? Bow to you?” Seongwoo responded wryly, “Shall I trot alongside you eagerly like a pet? Did you  _ really  _ expect me to be your docile accessory? Smile as I fall to my knees and-”

 

“Your point has been made,” The King cut the concubine off harshly. “Do not insult my intelligence. The second I looked into your eyes I knew…” His thought hitched, and he trailed off. Despite the fact that it lasted only seconds, the silence that ensued felt painfully uncomfortable. “I knew that you were not going to roll over and submit.”

 

“Yet you kept me. Again I ask, why?”

 

“And I told you: my decision hinged on more than greed. Not that you would believe me.”

 

“You’re correct. I don’t. If you felt so sure I was going to be trouble why bother with me in the first place, hm? Did the thought of taming me give you a thrill? Or, perhaps you can only get off if you break down a person’s resistance first. You sick-”

 

“I admired your courage,” Daniel said. His pupils shook with embarrassment at the admission.

  
Seongwoo’s mouth fell open, but it took a few instants for his thoughts to catch up, “You’re full of shit,” he replied.

 

“I knew you would say something like that,” Daniel laughed humorlessly, “Why do I bother, indeed…”

 

“Just let me go,” Seongwoo said. He bit his lip in anticipation of a response. The man’s will had clearly been worn down; he was drunk and his judgement had become hazy. Seongwoo thought that it seemed like an ideal window of opportunity. Daniel scowled at him. “Just- When you’re capable. I nurse you back to health, get you close to the Duke’s villa, and disappear. You can pronounce me dead, we all move on, happier.” 

 

The proposal made feelings of nervousness twitch and tangle in Seongwoo’s throat. Had he been in a position to put forth the same offer weeks earlier, he would have felt no reservations. However, the concubine admitted to himself, things had gotten slightly more complicated. Though he hated to think about it, the thought of so abruptly separating from the few allies he’d made hurt him. The idea of never knowing what would happen to Guanlin, Sungwoon, Eunji, or Yeri caused his heart to sink. Even if he managed to break free of the King’s grasp, Seongwoo was keenly aware that it did not translate to his tattered life being mended. Not even close.

 

It would ultimately complicate matters if anything.

 

“No,” Daniel replied stubbornly.

 

“What?”

 

“I said no.”

 

“No- What? I just- We have both made it very clear we are miserable. There is nothing for us in this- this shackling to one another. Nothing! So why- why?!” Seongwoo grabbed Daniel’s shirt, yanking the other toward him so he couldn’t avoid matching his gaze.

 

Daniel met Seongwoo’s eyes unwavering,“At this point, I say it to spite you.”

 

“You-” Seongwoo lifted a clenched fist. Air caught in his throat and he held it there, steadily lowering his arm. He growled, “I saved your  _ life _ !”

 

Tears welled up in Daniel’s eyes, “I never asked you to!” He shoved Seongwoo away. The force would have likely been much stronger had the man been at full strength. However, in his fragile state, it only served to surprise Seongwoo, hardly stirring him. The concubine willingly let go of the man’s collar. Anger flushed out of his system as he observed the view in front of him. Daniel’s chest heaved and his shoulders shook, desperately fighting to contain sobs. The man’s expression remained resolute and fierce, but the swollen teardrops falling down his cheeks betrayed him. 

 

“I never asked you to,” Daniel repeated, his tone much weaker than before. “I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this… Never wanted to be King, never wanted to hurt anybody… Never wanted to be the center of attention, of the nation… But that’s what you do when you’re the King.” His tone started to slur more as he rambled, “You sink everyone to make sure your nation stays afloat. I truly feel so sorry, but I- I- appearance and reputation are crucial to keeping your court under control. They thought I was weak, childish. Well, they are right, b-but keeping a concubine is seen as a sign of adulthood and- God. It sounds so much worse when I say it. Oh, God,” He sniffled, “But I- I... You should have killed me when you had the chance. I am ill-suited to be the King.” Pain wracked his features; whether from the injuries or grief, the concubine did not know.

 

Seongwoo frowned. He never quite figured out how best to address his highness’s self-deprecation. Pitying a man who had quite literally been given an entire nation seemed ludicrous, but the concubine couldn’t help it. He wondered how he’d managed to meet the one person on God’s green earth who did not wish to be a supreme ruler. Soft sniffles and pouring rain echoed in his ears as he ruminated about the escalation between them.

 

“You’re drunk,” Seongwoo said when he broke the silence, “You ought to rest.” He could think of no other response than to shut the exchange down completely. Instinctively, his inner generosity yearned to comfort the other man. Even faced with a person who stood for all he opposed, when seeing that person in trouble, he scarcely suppressed the urge to console them. The other, less gracious part of his soul wanted to affirm the man’s beliefs. It relished in the other’s misery and toil. Learning that the other had experienced significant anguish in his position made the concubine’s greedy side slightly giddy. The two ultimately canceled one another out. Seongwoo could not bear the thought of jabbing at a person so dejected they asked for death. Nor did he consider reaching out, wiping the other’s tears, and whispering sweet consolations to him within the realm of acceptable behavior.

 

Daniel looked down and wiped his eyes.

 

He muttered, “You’re so calm. You ought to be the King, not me.” He chuckled, “Imagine that: the roles reversed. You’d make a finer King than I. You are good with words, decisive, capable in impossible situations, and willing to stand up to  _ anyone _ . I would happily do anything you told me to. With someone like you leading me, I’d feel so secure... ”

 

A lucid vision of the King’s laid out scenario ran through Seongwoo’s head. He pictured himself sitting on a beautiful throne dressed in rich clothes (topped with a crown, no doubt). At the end of a luxurious, bejeweled chain would be his very own Kang Daniel, clad in dark, revealing clothes. Daniel would call him Master and need to ask permission if he wanted anything. Seongwoo’s mind reeled thinking of all the humiliations he could put Daniel through. He could drag the man about by his lead at his pleasure. He could lasciviously grab him when he pleased. He could say anything he wanted about the man in front of him, whenever he wanted. He fantasized about ways he could make his little Kangcubine as uncomfortable as humanly possible.

 

Suddenly, all of the images bubbling up in his head popped. Seongwoo realized: Daniel had never done any of those things to him. The man was not innocent, but he hadn’t reduced Seongwoo in the way that others had. He never treated the man like a mere plaything or an object. Daniel had seen his concubine as one thing and one thing only: Seongwoo. The concubine felt a twinge of guilt that he even imagined submitting someone else to that treatment. 

 

Seongwoo sighed, scooting closer to the other, “Unfortunately, fate has laid out different paths for us. Perhaps… Perhaps neither of us have made it particularly easy on ourselves either.” 

 

“Wha- what do you mean?” Daniel said, between sniffs.

 

“I believe you were right, earlier. About… About coexisting. We’ll fall ill from stress if we do nothing but throw venom at one another or-” A quick memory of their bath just days prior flashed through Seongwoo’s head, “-or refuse to communicate properly.”

 

“I suppose you’re right. And how are we to remedy this? I believe we have reached an impasse regarding our perspectives.”

 

Seongwoo nibbled on his bottom lip in thought, “We… We negotiate.” He proposed.

 

Daniel raised his eyebrows in interest, “Negotiate with… What? I mean no offense, but I’m unsure you would have anything to offer.”

 

“Negotiate with our word. I give my word that I will… Return you safely to the castle. When we do return, I will stay in line and spread rumors about how wonderful yet firm you are. I will do everything in my power to mend the reputation and status you so drastically strive to maintain. No punching nobles, no insubordination.” The words caused Seongwoo to wince internally. “In exchange for my behavior, you will grant me more freedoms around the castle.”

 

Daniel snorted, his smile lit up his face, “Trying to bargain even in a situation such as this! You truly are something.”

 

“If you don’t wish to take this seriously, I suppose I can spread bad rumors about you.”

 

“Wait!” Daniel said between laughs, “Wait, wait! I never said no. I am certainly interested in what you have to offer. However, I am not sure if some court gossip is enough to sway me,” He made an animated expression of contemplation, “I will give you more freedoms if you add one condition to my side of the deal.”

 

Seongwoo groaned internally, wondering what the man could possibly want, “And that term is…?” The concubine briefly wondered if the man was drunker than he seemed.

 

“You call me Daniel in private,” Daniel said matter of factly. Seongwoo tilted his head and his jaw dropped open. He wasn’t quite sure if the man spoke seriously or not, but the King’s unwavering expression implied that he’d been completely genuine. 

 

“I call you… Your… Your name?”

 

“Yes. Most people are called by their names, Seongwoo.”

 

Most people, Seongwoo thought, were not royalty. He wondered if the condition of casualty served as some sort of a test; he feared abiding by the King’s assertion would get him in trouble. 

 

“For what reason?!” The concubine couldn’t stop the question from spilling out of his mouth. That elicited another round of giggles from the other. He responded when he steadied himself from the amusement.

 

“If you think it so unreasonable, then we do not need to advance with the terms at all.” His highness looked entertained at the concubine’s reaction. 

 

“It just seems so… Peculiar that you’d wish to subvert rules of etiquette so greatly.”

 

“You and I had a shouting match in the nude just minutes ago. I believe we can consider rules of etiquette thoroughly subverted.”

 

The ends of Seongwoo’s lips curled, but he didn’t give in to the reflex to smile, “If you deem it necessary for us to reach consensus, then I shall abide.” He lifted the brown bottle in his hand. It felt significantly lighter than it had earlier that day. “A toast to signify our deal, then?”

 

“Say it once,” Daniel insisted.

 

“Say what?”

 

“Say my name.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

“To prove that you can.”

 

“W- Of course I am capable of- of saying your name.”

 

“Physically, yes. Mentally? I am not sure. I need to know you can hold up your end of the bargain if I am to agree to the terms,” The King smirked.

 

“I am more than mentally capable D- D… Dan...iel…” Seongwoo’s sentence trailed off into a mumble toward the end. Daniel was not by any means a difficult name for Seongwoo to pronounce. He actually thought the name quite nice. His hesitancy came from the fact that it felt so strangely intimate to say. The concubine imagined he could count the number of people allowed to call the King by his first name on one hand. It was a far departure from the Daniel who had insistently demanded he be called Master.

 

“It will get easier, I’m sure,” Daniel said warmly. He lifted the bottle in his own hand, “To negotiations?”

 

Seongwoo felt blush creep up his neck and onto his face. He’d faced many fearsome things in his life and refused to be undone by a name of all things. He put his bottle to his lips, uttering, “To negotiations.” Before tipping its contents inward.

 

Residual fatigue and alcohol worked together to bring down both of the men from their stupor. The two found themselves beneath their fortified barrier of blankets and hides soon after the finalization of their drunken verbal contract. Even under the covers, they chattered as if the conversation would exhume the remainder of the alcohol in their system. Daniel teased Seongwoo, dramatically teaching him how to properly pronounce his name. In return, the concubine made sure to pronounce “Daniel” incorrectly in a different way every time he said it. For that short while, between the throes of tension and void of sleep, the two forgot their circumstances. Rum lubricated their minds letting thoughtless little remarks slip out with ease.

 

Daniel began noticeably nodding off, and Seongwoo’s thoughts became more yawn than spoken word. Talk soon faded, giving way to the rumbling thunder and rain outside, and the pair holed up in the remote cottage faded with it.


	20. I Never Told You To Stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 20 WARNING(s): mature situations, alcohol consumption

Diffused sunlight just barely kissed the horizon on the frosty morning. General Park hadn’t hesitated in calling for reinforcements, and he’d gotten straight to briefing when they’d arrived the previous night. Bright and early, they’d risen, and they gathered, ready to embark on their mission.

 

“-and finally, fourth troup, you come with me!” General Park Jihoon’s voice bellowed across the expanse of the Hwang Villa yard. Lined up neatly in formation, the squads of soldiers on their mounts waited at the General’s command. “Any findings are to be relayed with haste, and if you find the King, ignite your flair. Understood?”

 

“Yes, sir!” The soldiers responded.

 

“Warrant officers at point!”

 

“Yes, sir!” 

 

“I see no need to delay the search any further. Into the woods, men!” The General barked. On cue, the four troops dispersed, each disappearing in a different direction. As he’d mentioned, the General led the fourth troup alongside a warrant officer who specialized in tracking.

 

From the entrance, wrapped in a thick cloak, the King’s advisor and two Dukes watched on as the men disappeared into thick woods. Duke Hwang had scarcely said anything since the King’s disappearance, and he still looked ghastly. The Advisor and Duke Choi each huddled close to Duke Hwang. Duke Choi had looped an arm around his friend’s shoulders, squeezing it to comfort him. Advisor Yoon looked after him concernedly. 

 

“You’ve no need to worry,” Jisung said softly, “I’m sure the General will find him with haste. He has returned from every mission we’ve sent him on victorious. This one will be the same.” Duke Hwang nodded shallowly in response. His skin looked pale and sallow, like thin paper, and his cheeks had sunken in.

 

Much to the shock of the other two present, he opened his mouth to respond, “Y-yes,” He said shakily. “I pray they will find him a-a-alive,” His hand rushed to clamp over his mouth.  Jisung and Minki exchanged looks of concern. “If you will e-excuse me. I- I must be o-o,” He started to amble off, but quickly halted. The other two looked on in confusion until they saw his body fold over. He violently heaved, and the contents of his stomach poured out onto the ground beneath. Duke Choi cringed at the sight but rushed to comfort his friend nevertheless.

 

Jisung frowned, yelling toward the villa, “Maid! We need a maid!” He followed Minki’s lead, running to comfort the ill nobleman. Jisung never pegged Duke Hwang as the type to internalize his worry somatically. It shocked him to see that the man had, quite literally, worried himself sick.

 

* * *

 

“-and- oh. He’s gotten ill,” Woojin commented. All servants and nonessential staff had been given strict instructions to remain in the villa after the attack. The security measures did nothing to deter the concubines’ curiosity. The lot of them, along with a few additional people, found themselves immeasurably curious as to how things would progress. An assortment of concubines, performers, and servants took to the second floor, crowding an unoccupied bedroom to watch over search activities. With little more to do than wait, the anxious bunch made a small event of it, passing around tea and smuggling food into the room. Some sat on the sitting chaise in the room; those who could not fit there brought up chairs or tried to make room on the bed for the occasion.

 

Palace dancer Park Woojin and the General’s concubine, Guanlin, eagerly pressed their faces to the glass of the window. From the two of them, the people who’d gathered in the room received a pieced together account of the events unfolding.

 

“What do you mean ill?” One of the royal choir singers, Jaehwan, asked.

 

“The heaving kind.”

 

“Wh- I want to watch!” Jaehwan joined the other two by the window. 

 

Woojin laughed, “Disgusting.”

 

“And hilarious,” Jaehwan added.

 

“O-oh!” Guanlin exclaimed, interrupting the performers’ banter, “They’re splitting up.” He watched his Master attentively, following his form until he was no longer visible through the thick trees in the distance.

 

“The Duke is still heaving,” Jaehwan reported.

 

Woojin shook his head,“But nothing’s coming out anymore, I don’t think. Wait- God- is he okay?”

 

“Do you think it’s nerves or sickness?”   
  


“I hope it’s not something liable to spread. The last thing we need is a sickness spreading after all of this…”

 

“It must be an illness. There’s no way Duke Hwang of all people would let nerves best him. He’s always so composed.”

 

“What if it was something in the food?!”

 

“But the others seem fine.”

 

“You’re right.”

 

“Still, getting sick in front of other nobles like that? How embarrassing.”

 

“I would bury myself in a hole.”

 

“Yes, a deep, deep hole-”

 

“He’s worried,” Someone cut into the conversation. A large figure loomed behind the three at the window with his arms crossed. The man’s voice sent shivers down the trio’s spines, and they collectively turned around to face the man slowly. Baekho, Duke Hwang’s ward, stood over them with an unamused expression on his face.

 

“W-we’re s-s-sorry,” Jaehwan began stammering, unable to mask his fear for the intimidating man behind them. “We were um- um- concerned, and-”

 

“Enough,” Baekho held out a hand, “I need no elaboration. I’m merely informing you that there’s no need to worry about some sickness sweeping over the villa. It’s no concern of mine whether you like my Master or not.”

 

“R-right,” Jaehwan replied, swallowing hard. Woojin and Guanlin slowly backed away from the window while the Duke’s concubine seemed distracted (lest he turned on them). “If I may ask, what makes you so certain he’s not- not ill?” The singer asked sheepishly.

 

Baekho frowned, “I spent all of last night watching him. If anything is making him ill, it is lack of sleep. He asked a few guards to remain posted outside his door, I kept watch inside. He barely shut his eyes. He’s terrified.”

 

“Oh…” Guilt came over Jaehwan’s face, and he glanced back out toward the window, “I didn’t think him the type to be so fearful. He always seems quite composed.”

 

Baekho approached the pane of glass as well, looking out at his Master, “We got out alright thanks to General Park, but he seems paranoid that the bunch of thugs that did this are going to return.”

 

“It- it’ll be alright, though,” Guanlin chirped from out of nowhere. He returned to the window beside Baekho, glancing in the direction his Master had disappeared in, “My Master’s amazing at what he does! He saved lots of people. Now he’s going to find the King and Seongwoo, too.”

 

“I hope you’re right,” Baekho said grimly.

 

Tiny raindrops began falling onto the glass of the window. Little trails dripped down, and soon more and more droplets came to join them. Soon, servants dispersed, and then some concubines. The performers tried to cheer up a few of the remaining people with little success and resigned themselves to waiting on the bed that had been cleared up. Baekho, Guanlin, and Sungwoon pulled the opulent chaise up to the window so they could watch comfortably. Three people with three Masters from three different walks of life all watched on with one hope:

 

That the King and his concubine would return, safe and sound.

 

* * *

 

Pounding pain knocked at Seongwoo’s temples when he woke. He inhaled sharply through his teeth as he came to. When sleep’s blurry filter washed away from his vision, he assessed his surroundings once more. Sluggishly, he rolled over. Two empty bottles of rum had rolled across the floor aimlessly at some point in the night. One of the preserves jars had also tipped over on the floor, but it appeared to have been emptied beforehand. Another jar of preserves had not been so carefully empty, and it sat on the ground without a lid, half full. Aside from some strewn about bottles, nothing seemed terribly out of the ordinary. Their clothes had been draped across various surfaces, that was nothing new. The fire had once again reduced to a few smoldering ashes, and Seongwoo aimed to remedy that immediately.

 

He moved to get out of bed, but his entire body protested with a fervor he could not ignore. His stomach lurched and the room spun violently. His mouth had gone dry, in dire need of a liquid that did not sting when going down. Every single pain he’d experienced echoed beneath his skin. He decided that Daniel provided plenty of warmth and that the fire could wait. The dizziness subsided after a few moments of stillness, leaving Seongwoo alone in the dim room with only the sound of rain for company.

 

Dilapidated pieces of the previous night started to float around in his head, and he slowly pieced together the sequence of events that had brought him there. He had started drinking the previous morning, perhaps afternoon. Daniel had begun even earlier than him. The two proceeded to spend the day either sleeping or remaining motionless beneath the heap of covers. The concubine recalls stoking the fire a couple of times and adding logs. He’d force fed the King and even made him drink some water. As the hours tolled on, they started eating less and drinking more. The night turned into a haze, a sort of sickly squalor of drunken rambling. Their conversation escalated at some point until they came to some kind of conclusion. That part was the most obscure. Seongwoo wracked his brain to figure out exactly what had happened, but he had nothing. 

 

“Mn…” Daniel stirred behind him. Seongwoo could feel the vibration of the other’s hum on the back of his neck. It made him shiver. “Seongwoo…?”

 

“Yes, Master?” Seongwoo asked. He bit down on his lip, breath hitched in anticipation.

 

“Mmn… Daniel,” The King said hoarsely, his voice almost a whisper.

 

“Wh-what?” Seongwoo asked.

 

“I told you… To call me Daniel,” His Master’s breath tickled his ear. Heat rushed to Seongwoo’s cheeks along with memories. The two had made a deal, he remembered it much more clearly. He’d told the man that he would behave, the man had told him that, in return, he would grant more freedoms. It was a rather freeform contract of the verbal variety, established when they were drunk no less. What Seongwoo had felt unsure about was how serious the man had been. Behavior in exchange for privileges and freedoms seemed reasonable, standard even. Demanding that your servant call you by your first name? Not quite, in Seongwoo’s eyes. He thought that the King, Daniel, would have thought it a mistake or forgotten about it entirely. It surprised the concubine that he had done neither of those things.

 

“D…” Seongwoo gulped, “Daniel.” He still could hardly utter the word, as if the two syllables were some unspeakable taboo that would bring upon him God’s wrath.

 

The man behind him chuckled, “Better.” He said. Seongwoo could not see him, but for some reason, he had a strong hunch that he was smiling. “Oh, God,” Daniel muttered, “The rum… I think I am… Seongwoo, I think I am still drunk.”

 

Seongwoo nearly groaned at hearing the proclamation. While it did not necessarily surprise him, he did feel slightly disappointed and frustrated. Even when sober and healthy, Ong thought the King taxing to deal with, to say the least. The two had managed to polish off two full bottles of throat burning, tear-inducing rum in a day’s time; he found it extraordinary that they’d lived through it. The concubine wanted to get moving as quickly as possible. He started to question just how soon that could truly be with how his highness proceeded to fare. 

 

“It can’t be helped,” The concubine said. Despite his rough condition, he took it upon himself to assure that, aside from drunkenness, Daniel had gone through the night safely. “How do you feel?” He asked.

 

“Drunk,” Daniel snorted.

  
Seongwoo rolled his eyes, “Aside from drunk, Ma- D-daniel.” He felt ashamed of his stammering.

 

The King seemed amused, chuckling as he answered, “Same. Pain. Sore. I have a… head hurt.”

 

“I imagine you mean headache,” The concubine rambled, “Sorry, not- not relevant. I, um… I need to check your wounds… Dressings. The dressings for your wounds.” Compared to Daniel in his current, Seongwoo felt like a bastion of intellectuality; however, that meant next to nothing considering just how low the King had sunk in the past few days.

 

Once again, Seongwoo willed himself to move with purpose. Slowly, he propped himself up on his elbows. The room reeled once again, and he gave himself a few moments to compose himself. Determinedly, he sat more upright and noticed that moving the third time wasn’t as offensively bad. He lifted the blanket to give the King another inspection, trying his best to avoid looking in certain places. 

 

Purple and green splotched his skin more deeply in some places than others. A few of his small scrapes had already cleanly closed up and began healing, much to the concubine’s relief. He felt proud that, for the second night in a row, he’d managed to prevent the man from bleeding out. Nothing looked excessively swollen nor did anything seem to exude any fluids other than the expected rusty red blood. Only the perforation points that the arrows had gone through urgently needed redressing.

 

“No…” Daniel said hazily, throwing his arm over his eyes to block out the barely present morning light,“No more rum.”

 

“Like hell am I letting you drink more,” Seongwoo replied as he willed himself to make another move.

 

“I meant my body,” Daniel said.

 

“Oh. Well, too bad. I’m not exactly giddy to have to dress your wounds, either.” Seongwoo decided the best way to grab the rum and linens was to move quickly. He concluded that getting the motions done as fast as possible would be for the best. The King remained still, idly griping about how he didn’t want any more pain. Though the concubine could empathize with the man, it didn’t stop him. As he’d set out to, he moved quickly swiping a bottle off the table and snatching the torn linen sheet he’d been using by the mattress. When he’d finished the world spun around him. He stumbled back onto the mattress and remained still for a few minutes, letting the world settle into place before moving forward. Once the whirling subsided, he regarded the King.

 

The concubine started at the old wound dressing on his Master’s shoulder, remarking“You’ll need to brace yourse-” A soft snore cut him off. Quirking an eyebrow, he slowly removed the arm that the King had moved onto his face off. Just as quickly as he’d come to, the man had already fallen back asleep. Seongwoo sighed. Rebandaging the man’s wounds wasn’t easy without conscious aid, but the very least, Seongwoo felt grateful he didn’t need to hear the other groan. Seongwoo repeated the process for the man’s ankle. After what felt like an eternity, the King had once again been treated. That task alone had managed to utterly oust any small remnant of energy that Seongwoo had had. Faintness and exhaustion coaxed him back beneath the covers of the bed. Being bare in the coldness of the cabin made him crave warmth, and he huddled as close as he possibly could to the best source of heat readily available.

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo stirred again. His head still hurt, and pain still panged as he moved his limbs. However, much to his relief, the world remained mostly in place. A small victory, but one he welcomed nonetheless. Feeling much more invigorated, he swiftly exited the safety and warmth of the covers to stoke the fire again. Quickly throwing some logs and kindling in, he struck the fire iron. He got goosebumps and his body shivered at the chill. Once the kindling took flame, he did not wait a second longer to return to the warmth of the covers. The concubine eagerly shimmied into place, slotting himself as close as he could to the King without being uncomfortable. To his dismay, it seemed to cause the other to stir and wake. 

 

“Ow,” Daniel muttered, inhaling sharply.

 

“D-did I hurt you?” Seongwoo asked.

 

“No, not you. Just. Everything. Everything else, that is. Head. Body.” His highness’s long arms reached out and pulled Seongwoo flush to him.

 

Seongwoo completely froze. His cheeks burned and his heart stopped. A shiver ran up his spine at the sensation of the man pressed up against him. At the hard member pressed up against him. Pricks of heat started migrating to his gut as the other’s arms wrapped around him, and his legs slotted between the other’s.

 

“Mn… You’re cold,” Daniel muttered. Seongwoo wasn’t sure how to respond. His brain ceased functioning and he labored to piece together a legible thought. Where words failed him, his body replied. “You’re shivering,” Daniel said, nuzzling the back of Seongwoo’s neck lazily.

 

Suddenly, every movement Daniel made was amplified. His fingertips languidly lingered on the concubine’s abdomen, thoughtlessly tracing shapes. He flexed his feet ever so slightly and shifted his body. Seongwoo partially wondered if he consciously did so to slot himself even more snugly against the other, or if he truly lacked awareness of his body in that moment. Breath tickled the concubine’s earlobe, making him squirm both internally and out. The other’s muscled torso pressed up against his skin. The mass of muscle and warmth made the hotness in Seongwoo’s belly swim; it made him feel ashamed which did nothing to negate the aforementioned effect in the least. He opted to drown out the sensations by occupying himself with something else: aimless conversation.

 

“Y-you’re feeling well?” Seongwoo asked. He grasped at the coarse linens beneath him in an attempt to vent some of the tension he felt.

 

“What constitutes as well?” Daniel asked, whimsy tickling the edge of his words.

 

“In slightly less pain?”

 

“I suppose by that definition… Well, no,” The King expressed pain but his tone sounded humored, “I have lingering pains in addition to a headache.”

 

“O-oh, I can, um-”

 

“You’ve no need to do more. You have done enough, Seongwoo. More than enough.”

 

Seongwoo tried to subtly wiggle his body further away from Daniel’s as they conversed, “I have only done what I could. I wish I could do more.”

 

“You’re sweet,” Daniel’s pleased tone made Seongwoo want to recoil further into the blankets. Unfortunately, that merely meant being closer to the other.

 

“Anyone would do the same if they had the means.”

 

“You say that, but I don’t believe it to be true.”

 

“What? Why would someone not help a person in need to the best of their ability?”

 

“Not everyone is like you, Seongwoo.”

 

“W-well, perhaps they ought to be,” The concubine stammered. He couldn’t wrap his head around whether or not the man had genuinely complimented him. He didn’t know what Daniel’s angle was or why he’d been so complimentary. Considering it further, he figured it was due to him saving the other’s life. It seemed logical that one would be extra kind to their savior. He concluded it was the soundest reason.

 

Daniel chuckled, “I wouldn’t mind that. More Seongwoos for me.”

 

“Of course, why own just one person’s life when you can own many? Oh wait, you do,” Seongwoo huffed.

 

“I’m sorry. I should not joke about such things. I- I forget.”

 

“Why does it bother you? I- I mean, it shouldn’t. You shouldn’t care,” Seongwoo frowned. The man’s attentive nature pricked an annoyance in him for a reason he couldn’t discern, “You are the King, right? It doesn’t matter.”

 

“I want to be someone you can care for,” The King admitted.

 

The concubine pouted; he tossed onto his other side so he could analyze Daniel’s facial features. The King quirked an eyebrow at him, and a tiny smirk lingered at the edges of his plush lips. Seongwoo’s stomach floundered with remorse for his decision to face the other. He took a deep breath, but upon exhaling, it came out shakily. He tried to recall if he’d ever been so close to the King before. Two had spent time in very, very close proximity, that he knew. However, he couldn’t recall such an occurrence where they’d been face to face; not in a situation where Seongwoo was at some sort of advantage.

 

“How drunk are you?” The concubine demanded, “You’re spouting nonsense.”

 

Daniel gnawed on his bottom lip for a moment before responding; a set of nerves washed over his face, “I… Seongwoo,” He reached out, placing a hand on Seongwoo’s cheek. The concubine froze, but he didn’t recoil. His brain ceased functioning. A thumb slowly stroked his cheek, thoughtfully connecting the points between his distinctive birthmark.

 

“What?” Was all he could mutter; it sounded more breathy than he cared to acknowledge.

 

“I-” Daniel hesitated again. His gaze met Seongwoo’s, and he hushed his voice, “I know that you are not a possession, yet… I cannot suppress my desire to possess you.”

 

“I am already your property, surely that must be satisfying,” Seongwoo replied. Something in his chest twisted and writhed. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Daniel’s, but his discerning gaze yielded little insight.

 

“You misunderstand me. I do not wish to possess you as property. That is not nearly enough to sate me.” His highness’s thumb rested at the edge of Seongwoo’s lips. 

 

“You’re a lech,” The concubine tried to sound confident and grounded even though internally he quivered at the man’s touch.

 

“I- No, I do not mean it in that way,” Daniel let out a quiet chuckle. As quickly as it came, the tiny grin fell, and he continued more earnestly than before, “I just… To be honest, I wish I could possess your…” His thumb stroked the concubine’s lower lip. Seongwoo nearly choked at the contact. If his highness noticed, he neglected to acknowledge, rambling on, “Smile.”

 

“Wh-what?” Seongwoo had intended the inquiry to come out clearly, but what came out of his mouth sounded more like a confused whine.

 

“I want to possess your-” Daniel fingered the three small dots on the other’s cheek again, “-birthmarks and the way that you scrunch your nose when you laugh. Your courage and your strength, your unbelievably generous heart, your wit… The way you look right now with your hair mussed,” A minuscule smile spread across his lips once more, “Even after we have been through hell and back, you still look so beautiful.”

 

Fierce, ferocious, and unrelenting, something stabbed at Seongwoo’s chest. It pierced through everything. His defenses, the walls he carefully constructed and fortified over years of toil, meant nothing. It twisted inside of him, jostling his heart and straining his lungs. The other’s hand left a blazing impression on his cheek; it made him feel as if he was blistering like the skin was bubbling just beneath the other’s touch. He could not bring himself to move, to physically repulse or recoil. No matter how much his intellect urged him to do so, his body remained firmly at rest.

 

“Stop,” Seongwoo spat back, “Stop it.”

 

“Stop- what? I am being honest. Do you prefer liest?” Daniel seemed slightly vexed, but his tone still sounded patient. Suddenly Seongwoo wanted the other to ignite, to explode. He wanted some overwhelming sign instructing to run.

 

“Stop this,” Seongwoo said frankly, eyeing the hand resting on his neck, “This- this talk. What are you saying?”

 

“I want you to know that I- I… You like to believe that I view you as a slab of meat or- or property or some trophy, but Seongwoo I… I notice these things. I see you and I see a person who is so profoundly intriguing and- and breathtaking. I-” He laughed wryly, wincing in pain slightly at the exertion. His pupils darted away in shame, “I do not want to possess you as property. I want to own you, flesh and soul, and I want you to own me.” His eyes returned to Seongwoo’s with renewed intensity, “That is the truth.”

 

Seongwoo attempted to swallow, but his throat closed up around the nonexistent lump. His ears buzzed; his entire body buzzed. Sparks surged violently through every single tendril of feeling in his body.

 

“You’re an idiot,” The words the concubine muttered sounded automatic, ejected with no conviction. “To think such things about me.”

 

“You think it completely out of the question?” Daniel asked rhetorically.

 

“I know it,” Seongwoo asserted, “For us to o-own each others’ hearts? It’s ludicrous. I feel embarrassed on your behalf.” The thought of owning Kang Daniel in any rite sent a chill down Seongwoo’s spine. He wrote it off as feeling heavily irked.

 

“Is it truly so unfathomable?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The King studied Seongwoo up and down. He pressed his lips together as he considered something. Without warning, he scooted closes to the concubine on the mattress. His hand ventured up a short distance; his thumb and forefinger closed around his earlobe, just barely brushing the tender skin.

 

“Are you certain?” Daniel whispered. Seongwoo could feel the other’s breath tickle his face. The delicate pressure on his earlobe sent spine-tingling sensations down his back, all the way to the tips of his toes.

 

“Y...Yes,” He answered back with a significantly lesser amount of conviction. His pupils which had so fiercely faced the other’s before shot down. 

 

“Seongwoo?”

  
“Wh-what?” Seongwoo refused to look up until the other stopped his questioning.

 

“If our hearts truly have no chance of intertwining, I will accept that.”

 

“They-”

 

“But,” Daniel cut him off, “Before I am convinced, I ask one thing.”

 

“Fine,” Seongwoo obliged, eager to obliterate the bubbling sensation in his chest. He could hear the other exhale louder than normal, something he swore was a small chuckle. He imagined the other had somehow been humored, but he didn’t dare check.

 

“Seongwoo,” He whispered, “Would you be so kind as to close your eyes?”

 

“What- why?”

 

“You said you would accept! But if you fear-”

 

“I fear nothing,” Seongwoo said, blinking his eyes closed. He felt the fingers around his earlobe vanish. The King ran his fingers beneath his ear and along his jawline. He took hold of the concubine’s chin, stroking his lips sluggishly as if to savor the feeling. Something carnal inside Seongwoo quaked.

 

“Interesting,” Daniel responded. The low hum of his voice sounded almost akin to a purr, and it made the hairs on the back of Seongwoo’s neck stand up on end. The King decided to continue, explaining, “Considering that I can feel you shivering.” He chuckled lowly. Seongwoo questioned precisely why he’d agreed to close his eyes, as if it would help expedite the conclusion to their conversation. It had only served to heighten any rogue sensation that his senses happened to pick up, much to his chagrin.

 

Daniel kept speaking,“You’re not afraid of me, though. Are you? Of course not. I am injured and quite pathetic in this state. Even in perfect health, the first time you met me… You were not afraid. You had no idea what kind of a person I was, but nothing stopped you from standing up for yourself to the best of your ability. I could have sentenced you to death on the spot, but you kept headstrong. Yet now, here, when we are stripped bare, I more vulnerable than you… You shiver.”

 

“It’s cold,” Seongwoo said through gritted teeth. His chest bobbed up and down quickly with his efforts to maintain conventional breathing.

 

“Yet you are flushed and warm to the touch,” Daniel leaned in more closely, just ever so slightly resting his forehead on Seongwoo’s. The concubine’s thoughts degraded; he spent every ounce of energy he had focusing on remaining calm and still, on remaining visibly at ease. “It’s as if you think I do not understand how you react to me. How your body reacts to me.”

 

Seongwoo resented the statement, spouting back, “The body responds to stimuli. Something you would know if you read-”

 

“Is insisting on staying by someone’s side a response to stimuli?” The King leaned forward; his eyes flitted closed as he nuzzled the other’s nose, his voice a low hum, “Is treating someone with such care a response to stimuli? Someone whose disappearance would serve your benefit? What of laboring to comfort them in their dejection? What stimulation prompts that?”

 

“There is a thing people like to refer to as ‘kindness’.”

 

“Maybe so,” Daniel brought his body closer to Seongwoo’s so they were once again flush. Seongwoo could feel the other’s swell and compress with the breaths he took. His skin made out every line of muscle and knick and bandage of the other against him. Suddenly, pressure returned to him, knotting in his stomach at an alarmingly fast rate. 

 

“Perhaps this is all wishful projection on my part, but… But if it isn’t,” The King hesitated for a moment before continuing, less confident than before, “If it isn’t… I am weak. I am tired and worn down. Tell me in all honesty that there is absolutely no space for me in your heart. None at all.” He leaned in, letting his lips brush Seongwoo’s. They ghosted a kiss on the concubine’s lips; such a brief, light contact could barely constitute as a kiss.

 

But it was enough.

  
Seongwoo’s hand shot up before his mind could comprehend what had happened. He intertwined his fingers in Daniel’s hair, holding him firmly in place. Dizziness overtook Seongwoo, blurring the vehement ignitions inside of him into an illegible mass. He felt anger and disappointment and an unquantifiable amount of shame pile on top of him, but they were all ousted. For just fractions of a moment, desire triumphed over all; it exterminated any other possible urge or thought that rose in his head with immediacy. He’d been worn down, his walls nothing but crumbled remains. He had endured so, so much up to that point, and no longer could he find the strength to deny something that had already set its roots in his soul. He resigned himself to writing off the instance with a multitude of excuses when he came to, when sense returned to him. Little else could take traction in his head. Not when the itch that had been bothering him for an agonizing while had just barely gotten scratched.

 

“Tell me that there is no room for me in your heart,” Daniel whispered. He let their lips brush again, never pressuring the other to commit to more. “Just say it. Tell me to stop, that there is no hope.” He murmured on top of the other’s lips.

 

Stop, a voice in Seongwoo’s head said.

 

Stop it.

 

Stop it.

 

No. No. No. No. No. No. Stop it. No. No. Stop it. Stop doing this. Stop it. Stop it. Don’t do this. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t. Stop doing this. Stop doing this. Stop it stop it stop it.

 

The voice droned on. The concubine wanted so badly to summon the will to verbalize those words, to burn them into Kang Daniel’s brain. He wanted so badly to tell him what he’d been telling himself, and his gut wrenched upon the realization. He hadn’t been willing Daniel to stop.

 

He’d been willing  _ himself  _ to stop.

 

He practically begged himself to halt his indulgence before it was too late, before it went too far. Just as he’d told Daniel: their lives were not a play. The story playing out before them would not end happily. He hated this man, or, at least the things he stood for, what he represented. In no universe could they be happy together. None. His mind knew this.

 

Though his soul lagged on the emotional front, at the very least he felt part of his urges could be justified. It had been long since he had felt the legitimate comfort of flesh. He quickly patched over the rifts between his emotions and thoughts with the rationalization of physical need. At that moment it was acceptable, an adequate way to write off what he found himself on the brink of doing.

 

Daniel’s eyes blew wide open, he backed off, “W- Wai- I- I- Seongwoo, I’m so sorry, I- I got c-carried away, and-” He moved to back off, but a strong hand kept him firmly in place; his panicked stuttering dropped off immediately.

 

“Daniel,” Seongwoo said. The words leaving his mouth came out so low, they sounded more like a hum; he whispered, “I didn’t tell you to stop.” With their only company being the raindrops outside and the crackling fire, Seongwoo lost any motivation to care. A raspy exhalation left his lips as he started to pull the other to him once more.

 

_ “Bang! Bang! Bang!!” _

 

Seongwoo and Daniel’s eyes blew open and shot to the entrance of the cottage with sheer panic. Daniel stiffened, wrapping his arms around Seongwoo in a white-knuckled grip. Seongwoo had initially jumped, but due to the King’s vice on him, he couldn’t. He merely watched in terror as the imposing figure that had kicked in the door burst in.

 

“What are you doing to him you sick bastard?!” A shout echoed loudly in the room. Seongwoo’s mind failed to connect the pieces of the situation before he found himself being thrown off the mattress. The concubine inhaled sharply as he winced with pain at the sudden contact with hardwood. The pain of the impact echoed throughout his entire body, deepening the set in aches that had made themselves at home beneath his skin. Nausea threatened to overwhelm his senses, but he focused on breathing rhythmically to keep his senses clear.

 

“Daniel! Oh, God- Daniel, are you alright?!” The figure shucked the hood of his cloak. Through blurred vision, Seongwoo could make out the sweet visage of General Park Jihoon. He struggled to sit up, a wrenching sensation in his gut sickening him. He thought it the remnants of alcohol, most likely.

 

Jihoon grabbed Daniel’s face gingerly, lifting it so their eyes met. He inspected the man concernedly. He studied the King’s hazy yes and sunken in cheeks. As he looked further, he noticed the bandages all over the King’s body. His eyes widened in rage and he turned to the man on the floor. Without giving the man so much as a glance, he withdrew a dagger from his belt, pointing the gleaming blade at the other.

 

“What did you do to him!?” He demanded, eyes red with fury. “I swear to God, if you-”

 

“Jihoon!” Daniel exclaimed. The General stopped. It was as if a spell over him had been broken. He lapsed from enraged to innocent in the matter of a second, quickly sheathing his dagger and turning back to Daniel.    
  


“What is it, your majesty?” General Park asked attentively.

 

“What are you doing to Seongwoo?”

 

Jihoon quirked an eyebrow in confusion. He turned his head toward the man on the floor once more, and realization slowly dawned over his face. Despite understanding that the man he’d threatened was merely another victim, he expressed little remorse.

“Ah, I see,” He said quietly. The General stood up, backing away from the mess. Seongwoo propped himself up on his elbows and scowled at the man. Jihoon did not appear to notice or, if he did, care. The military officer looked out the smashed in door, bellowing, “In here!” He turned back to the King as his concubine, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

 

“If I may ask,” Jihoon said, his tone clipped, “Why the  _ hell  _ are you not wearing any clothing? It is frigid.” The question seemed more directed toward Seongwoo though the both of them had been undressed beneath the covers.

 

The past few days had taken a toll on Seongwoo that he would not soon forget. He thought it likely he would never forget. He had been pushed to and beyond limits of which he had no inkling of their existence. His intellect, resourcefulness, endurance, and strength had all been tested. Logic dictated that after such a grueling time his spirit would be diminished, his wits dulled. However, even in his compromised state, the concubine detected the slightest hint of resentment in the General’s manner. He wasn’t sure exactly why, but he sensed that his presence riled General Park. Life had stripped Seongwoo of many joys over his years of existence; so, upon recognizing one small, petty way he could get a thrill, he seized the chance.

 

“They were wet,” Seongwoo said hoarsely, “We needed to shed them and keep close under the blankets. For warmth.” Jihoon glanced across the room to the clothes that had been hanging over various surfaces in the room. He annoyedly strode over to an article of clothing, a shirt that had been hung over the back of a chair, and threw it at Seongwoo.

 

“They will do for now,” General Park said through gritted teeth. He paced over to the kicked in door and hollered to his men. The whistle of a flare going off echoed across the woods, signaling a request for reinforcements.

 

Seongwoo lethargically dressed himself, still not quite used to moving with the plethora of little pains in his joints. He glanced at Daniel to see his state. The King merely looked dazed and confused. Any trace of the strange aura that had just surrounded them vanished. Seongwoo’s heart dipped upon recollection of just moments prior.

 

Things moved quickly afterward.

 

Soon, the cottage was crowded with soldiers. The two were clothed and collected, thrown on top of horses with escorts. Unsurprisingly, General Park chose to personally take King Daniel back to the estate. He hoped that the man wasn’t needling his highness with pestering questions. He could not help but feel a bit estranged. Even though it had been just a few days, he’d been practically fused to the other’s side. He hated to think it, but it felt weird to see Daniel riding off in front of him with someone else. The concubine didn’t think it unfavorable, per se, but he hardly could tell the man’s mental state in his proximity. He couldn’t help but feel the slightest tint of concern when that proximity he’d quickly acclimated to got taken away. Due to his heavy involvement in the other’s treatment, he felt responsible to see his recovery through.

 

That was all.

 

* * *

 

“I- I can’t breathe-” Seongwoo choked out with wide eyes. The body wrapping him with crushing force didn’t seem to care. 

 

“Guanlin, let the man breathe!” Sungwoon barked. The chick slightly relinquished his grasp on the other concubine but still remained latched onto him.

 

Seongwoo scarcely remembered what had happened once the search party had returned to the villa. They’d been welcomed back to a warm reception. Those who still remained at the villa had expressed immense relief at their (primarily the King’s) safe arrival. Daniel had been rushed off somewhere to see a doctor. Seongwoo himself had also been seen by someone, but due to his low rank and relatively small amount of injuries, he’d been dismissed quickly. The Duke (or whoever had been responsible for their return arrangements) had graciously had a tub waiting in his quarters for him to rinse off in. After a bath, a meal, and a cup of tea, Seongwoo could nearly say he felt back to his previous self.

 

“You’re okay! You’re okay! You’re okay- you’re okay- you’re okay-” Guanlin bounced up and down.

 

“Guanlin!” Sungwoon lightly smacked the boy’s shoulder, causing him to finally let go.

 

“S-sorry,” Guanlin grinned sheepishly. He wiped a tear from his eye, “I just- I- I-”

 

Seongwoo smiled warmly at the young boy. As far as society was concerned, he was already of age. Yet, in Seongwoo’s eyes, Guanlin was but a child. He had much to learn and experience. It hurt the concubine knowing that the hunting trip would likely stand out as one of the experiences of his youth.

 

“You’ve no need to apologize,” Seongwoo said. He glanced at one of the side tables by a lounge, eyes fixating on the wisping rivulets of steam coming off of the surface, “Is that-”

 

“Tea, yes!” Sungwoon’s face lit up in realization, “God- Yes! Please, sit down. Have a cup of tea! Relax! Wait- I’m- I apologize. It is presumptuous of us to think you would want company. If you prefer, we can-”

 

Seongwoo held up his hand as he strode over to the lounge, unceremoniously plopping down, “Please. I implore that you keep me company. If- If it is not too much a task.”

 

“No!” Sungwoon gasped, “No, not at all!” He and Guanlin quickly raced to take the seat closest to Seongwoo. Guanlin won, looping an arm around the older one when he triumphantly claimed his seat. Baekho and JR looked on amusedly, taking a seat at the lounge across theirs.

 

“So,” The eldest said, “I suppose asking ‘how are you’ and ‘are you okay’ are, well, stupid things to ask, aren’t they?”

 

Seongwoo let out a chuckle, “I suppose they are. I’m… Alive.”

 

“Alive is good! We like alive, don’t we?” Sungwoon grinned at Guanlin who nodded enthusiastically. 

 

“It’s preferable for the most part,” Seongwoo replied with a smile. Though a trace of remnant anxiety kept Ong every so slightly on edge, the immense relief he felt took enough of the edge off. So much yet so little had just transpired. At one moment, reflecting on the events seemed simple, easy. They were cornered, hunted, left to die, and they survived. They bunkered up in a serendipitously placed cottage until they were found. Nothing more happened as far as any onlooker or person who would hear the story was concerned. However, the entire event still left a deep impression on Seongwoo. He knew it did, but acknowledging that truth wasn’t something he felt certain he could do. There was also the one fact that he couldn’t ignore: his Master’s newest demand. 

 

Daniel’s newest demand.

 

“What was it like?” Guanlin asked, wide-eyed. Sungwoon kicked him.

 

Seongwoo shook his head, “It’s alright, Sungwoon. People will ask inevitably. I’m afraid you’d be quite bored, really.”

 

“I highly doubt that,” Guanlin replied.

 

“I am completely serious. We were holed up in a cottage for what felt like ten years. Thank God the owners of that place kept a few rations there. Now that I think about it, we left the place in quite a state… After that place kept us safe for so long, we ought to compensate them somehow,” Ong rambled.

 

“Oh? What’d you eat?”

 

“Pickles. And preserves,” The older concubine scrunched his nose, “Not the worst, but… Not very fulfilling. Oh- And rum.”

 

“Rum? It’s-” Guanlin lowered his voice as if that alone would make it so Sungwoon’s discerning ears couldn't hear, “It’s been ages since I’ve had rum.”

 

“You know I am right here,” Sungwoon interjected with a roll of his eyes. “Though where in the hell a kid like you gets rum I don’t know. We don’t keep it in the palace. Too hard to get the stuff nowadays and hardly worth it. It’s disgusting.”

 

“But so fun,” Guanlin wiggled his eyebrows. The implication of debauchery earned him another kick from the eldest.

 

Seongwoo shrugged,“I can’t speak much to the taste, but it did the job. His majesty managed to go without needing a limb cut off, or, at least, I think. And it kept the edge off of- well, everything else. It did taste like burning, though.”

 

“You were there for days. How did you pass the time? Did you play any games?” Guanlin asked.

 

“Wh- Why the hell would they play games?” JR commented with a laugh. 

 

“Does extracting pieces of an arrowhead count as a game?” Seongwoo said. Most of the others winced save for Baekho and Sungwoon who chuckled. “Sorry, that’s- shouldn’t be funny.” Ong added. “As for how time was spent, well, I once again point to the aforementioned rum. Does wonders, really. At least until the morning after.” He regretted mentioning it; it brought up memories before he could dash them from his head.

 

“Here, here,” Baekho lifted his cup in a gesture of affirmation.

 

“What about the King?” JR asked, scooting closer to the edge of his seat, “How did he fare? I hardly got to see him since his return. I think he’s been in the infirmary all night.”

  
  


“Oh, God… The only company I have had for the past few days is Daniel. I understand you all must be very curious, but I am sick of thinking about or seeing him,” Seongwoo groaned before taking a sip of his tea. He relished in the spiced herbal warmth running down his throat. After a few seconds of basking in the pleasure of a hot cup of tea, Seongwoo noticed something. Nobody had said a word. He glanced at the others in the room, concerned to see all of them eyeing him in wide-eyed shock. He started to inquire, “Wh…”

 

“You must be exhausted,” Guanlin fretted, “To call your Master by his name like that.”

 

Heat stung Seongwoo’s cheeks and ears. His heart did a flip upon understanding what exactly had warranted such surprise in the others.

 

“I- Well, um- You must be right,” Seongwoo laughed awkwardly. He took another loud sip of his tea in hopes that the point would be dropped. Most of the others shrugged off the tangent save for Sungwoon who eyed him suspiciously.

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo yawned loudly. Never had a bed, a true, actual bed, looked so inviting in his life. He lumbered toward the mattress and plopped face first onto it. He could not be assed to so much as turn over until after a few moments of stillness. When the meager motivation needed finally took hold of him, he scurried onto the bed and slid beneath the sheets. He heaved a deep sigh of relief, and he slowly began sinking into the mattress.

 

“ _ Knock. Knock. _ ”

 

The concubine jolted up with a wide frown on his face. It must have been close to midnight according to his conjecture. What on Earth, he wondered, did someone want at such a time? With a groan, he replied loudly:

 

“Come in,” He rolled his eyes and hopped out of bed. Crossing his arms, he stood to regard whoever had decided to call on him in the middle of the night.

 

The young man entered, closing the door behind him. It took Seongwoo’s fatigued brain a few moments to recognize him; he wasn’t used to the sight of him in such plain clothes. It was as if he’d gotten ready to go to bed himself, only to visit Ong as an afterthought.

 

“General Park,” Seongwoo said. Every ounce of his being tensed.

 

“Seongwoo,” General Park Jihoon replied, “Your condition has improved, I hope?” The man’s tone did not sound particularly hopeful to the concubine. He neglected to comment on his notion. Unlike his highness, the General did not seem the type to hesitate in utilizing his power as he deemed fit. Seongwoo feared if he so much as breathed in a vaguely offensive manner the man would have him arrested.

 

“It has,” Awkwardness hung heavily in the air like a thick fog. The concubine plowed forward regardless, “I- I suppose I never thanked you, General. You found us. You saved our lives. I am forever in your debt.” Seongwoo even punctuated his thank you with a deep bow. He hoped the display of humbleness would please the man.

 

“At ease,” Jihoon said. “Actually it is I who wanted to thank you.”

 

Seongwoo’s eyes widened as he stood upright, “What?”

 

“You heard me, concubine. Thank you. You kept Daniel- the King alive. He told me about what had happened. You were fearless to jump into the river like that during such a torrential rain.” 

 

Seongwoo felt his heart dip; he wondered if Daniel mentioned his small run-in with homicidal urges. He prayed not. His mouth opened, but a response didn’t come out.

 

“You are welcome,” Jihoon said, “Is the conventional response to expressed gratitude.”

 

“W-well,” Seongwoo finally managed to speak, “I’m sure anyone else would have done the same.”

 

Jihoon slowly strode closer. The sound of his boots against the hardwood flooring echoed with each step. He shook his head.

 

“No, actually. Most would not have done what you did. I doubt many would even be capable. But… You did it. You saved my- our King,” He closed in on Seongwoo, standing less than a pace away. The General’s eyes were dark and penetrating as if he was searching for something. Ong couldn’t help but squirm internally beneath the other’s gaze.

 

“I- I have not seen him since returning. How is D- Master now?” Seongwoo bit his lip.

 

“He is in recovery. You did an… Adequate job patching him up for the meantime.”

 

“E-excellent,” Even with his relatively benign nature, something about the General kept Seongwoo on edge. He scrutinized the other carefully, waiting for any sudden movements. “I greatly appreciate you coming to express your gratitude. Once again, I am ever so glad that his highness is safe-”

 

“Oh, I’m not finished,” Jihoon cut him off coldly. There it was, the sudden movement Seongwoo had been waiting for. The General shrunk the distance between them, “I am grateful you saved the King, but what I do not understand is… Why?”

 

“Wha-”

 

“Why would you do such a thing when you only regard him with contempt? Am I to expect that you have suddenly become a loyal subject of our Kingdom? That you wish for him to live on and flourish? Develop our nation?”

 

“I- I did not think of such things when jumping after him-”

  
“Then what  _ did  _ you think?” Jihoon demanded. Despite his cute features, he looked fierce.

 

“I- I didn’t,” Ong spoke the truth. He truly hadn’t formed a conscious thought when he’d gone after Daniel. He wasn’t sure why a soldier found an instinct to help those in need so unbelievable.

 

“No? Awfully convenient you happened to be close enough to be his savior yet not in the line of fire when he was being beaten.”

 

“What are you implying, General?” Rage started brewing inside the concubine’s gut. He gritted his teeth.

 

“Implying?” Jihoon laughed, “My apologies. I do not wish to imply anything. I will say what I mean explicitly: I don’t trust you.”

 

“What?!” Seongwoo’s face fell into a look of complete befuddlement. His rage warped into disbelief.

 

“Was I not clear enough for you, concubine? I don’t trust you one bit. Things went smoothly before you arrived. Suddenly you arrive and everything’s gone wonky. I am a tactical thinker and I do not believe in coincidences.”

 

“You’ve gone mad,” Ong blurted out. He was aware that his words could yield drastic repercussions, but he didn’t care, “Need I remind you that-” He could hardly stop himself from laughing exasperatedly, “-that you brought me into this? You cannot pluck someone from a- a life, throw them somewhere else, then be upset when they- they exist in your space. What am I to do? Cease living?”

 

“That’s not a terrible idea,” Jihoon shrugged.

 

Seongwoo scoffed, “Say I off myself; how do you want to explain that one to the King- you know, the man to whom you handed me off to? The man you so insisted needed a souvenir from a conquest. Pray tell, what gives you the right to complain about my presence when it was  _ you  _ who-”

 

“He wasn’t supposed to want you!” Jihoon exclaimed abruptly. He clamped his mouth shut. His cheeks went pink and he nibbled on his lower lip. “Gifts are given out of consideration and thought. I did not anticipate-”

 

“Wait,” Seongwoo covered his mouth. He didn’t want Jihoon to see the humored grin on his face. He spoke when he composed himself once more, “You- you got him a gift you thought he wouldn't want?”

 

“He- I- You were not to be- I owe you no explanation,” The General seethed.

 

“I see what this really is,” Smugness took over the concubine’s sense for his own wellbeing. He quirked an eyebrow, eyeing the young man up and down. “I see exactly what this is now.” General Park clenched his fists. His knuckles went white. He looked ready to strangle the concubine, but he refrained, crossing his arms instead.

 

“You see nothing. You know nothing. Nothing about me, nothing about this Kingdom,” He leaned in, speaking quietly, “And you damn well know nothing. About. Daniel.”

 

“I know one thing,” Seongwoo grinned widely. He had a keen awareness that he’d passed “playing with fire” as the phrase put it. The dance of wills he and Jihoon had engaged in was no mere play. It was more akin to inciting it, stoking the edges of a dry brush until the entire hedge ignited. He dared the fire to burn as brightly as possible given the slightest spark.

 

The concubine said in a quiet voice, almost a whisper, “I know he cares for me in a way he will _never_ care for you.”

 

“I could strangle you!” Jihoon charged forward to close the gap between them.

 

Seongwoo stepped back and held his hands up, “Ah- ah!” He taunted the warlord, “But what would Daniel say if the companion who’d just gotten him through a terrifying time died? How would that make him feel?” Jihoon remained rooted in place. He shook with fury as Ong spoke, “You wouldn’t do anything to make Daniel upset, would you?”

 

“What did you just call him?”

 

“Wh- Oh, Daniel. That’s his name. He asked me to call him that, by the way. Honestly, I would never dream of such a thing otherwise. If you doubt me- which you surely do- ask him.”

 

The General swiftly stepped forward, grabbing a fistful of Seongwoo’s sleeping shirt. The concubine panicked but determinedly refused to show it, keeping a cool expression. Jihoon pulled him close, locking their gazes.

 

“Tomorrow we return to the castle. Trust that I will have a very, very close eye kept on you.”

 

“Keep as many as you like,” Seongwoo shrugged. Jihoon let go of the other’s sleeping shirt with a huff. He turned and started walking toward the door.

 

“Don’t test me like that again,” The General barked over his shoulder once he reached the door, hand on the handle.

 

“You’re not my Master,” Ong replied defiantly.

 

Jihoon opened the door. He stepped out, saying one last statement before shutting it behind him. The man’s words chilled Seongwoo to the bone. The idea made the concubine’s guts twist and writhe with dread. Try as he might to erase the thoughts, they kept replaying in his head, over and over again. Those last parting words that served to keep him up entirely too late that night:

 

“You’re right. I’m not your Master,” He’d said. Just before leaving, he added one last thing, nonchalantly:

 

“But I am Guanlin’s.”

 

Seongwoo collapsed onto his bed, tears stinging his eyes. He repeated to himself over and over again:

 

He would never hurt Guanlin.

 

He would never hurt Guanlin.

 

He would never hurt Guanlin.

 

He would never hurt Guanlin.

 

Would he?

 

* * *

 

 

“Sir, it’s time for you to wake up,” A voice spoke softly.

Seongwoo jumped up frantically, tangling himself in the blankets as he attempted to get upright. His heart raced and his eyes had blown wide open.

“S-sir?” The maid backed up hesitantly, and the concubine sighed regretfully. It had merely been a servant, not a cloaked assailant or irate warlord.

“Sorry,” Seongwoo mumbled. He wiped his hands down his face, hoping to wipe away some of the grogginess that surrounded him as well. “What, um, what time is it?” He asked, looking out the window. It still looked entirely too dark to be morning.

“Quarter past four, sir,” The maid said, “You’re due to depart at five, no later. Strict orders from his majesty.”

“I see…” Seongwoo said. He glanced outside again. Though part of him wanted to ask why their departure had been scheduled so early, he didn’t think the villa maid would know. He conjectured that the King wanted to return to the castle as soon as he possibly could. He could hardly blame the man. The two of them had endured grueling trials. Castle Jeon seemed like a sanctuary, even to the concubine.

Seongwoo slowly rolled out of bed. The maid laid out clothing for him to change into. She motioned for a few more servants to enter the room so they could carry out the concubine’s luggage. In the meanwhile, Ong lethargically dressed himself. A single night’s rest hardly recovered his drained energy. A series of dim pains rippled throughout his body as if to remind him that he would be making their acquaintance for awhile. 

Everything surrounding the man appeared to move three times more quickly. A servant came in with a tray of tea, practically pouring the cup down his throat in hopes that it would accelerate his movements. Others tidied everything he’d disturbed in the (incredibly short) duration of his stay. By the time Seongwoo had finally accomplished the menial task of getting dressed, the maid that had roused him began  rushing him out the door.

“It’s already ten ‘til! Come on, now!” She grabbed the fabric of his doublet’s sleeve, dragging him out toward the villa’s entrance foyer.

“Wha… What’s the rush? No breakfast?”

“Food has already been packed for your journey! Now go on, get!” She nearly pushed him out the front door where a small crowd of servants and stablemen fussed about. Just as the maid had told him, preparations had been made for them to leave. A single carriage had been readied in front of the foyer, and about a dozen mounted men surrounded it. Seongwoo squinted in an attempt to see everything better. He still hadn’t quite woken up, and the sun hadn’t even come close to cresting the horizon.

“Why so many?” He commented vaguely, referring to the crowd of men on horses.

“Because,” A voice came out from behind him, followed by the sound of heavy boots against the ground. The person soon came into Seongwoo’s view: General Park Jihoon. “We need to assure the King’s safety on his travels. It is my mission to assure that no malicious characters get close to him.” The man turned to regard the concubine with a cold expression. Seongwoo couldn’t pin down precisely why the man had decided then and there to stare daggers at him. Reasoning aside, it did not change the fact that General Park regarded him with intense frigidity. General Park said no more; he moved onward toward a horse at the front of the carriage’s escort, leaving Seongwoo to his own thinking once more.

It made the concubine’s chest roil with anger, but he stamped down the sensation, the urge to retort disdainfully. The last thing he needed was to stir trouble. Thinking on it more, he decided that he could use a rest from his personal mission of making life hard in Castle Jeon. He supposed he could resume his regularly scheduled chaos sowing after a few days of rest. He had, after all, agreed to “behave”. Whether or not his highness would make good on his side of their agreement, Seongwoo could not be certain. Any sort of freedom or breathing room he would be given in the future hinged on it being honest, so he opted not to challenge the idea excessively.

Another commotion erupted behind Seongwoo, causing him to turn around. A huddle of people muttered and mumbled among themselves. They surrounded none other than the King himself. Duke Hwang and Advisor Jisung had each taken one of the King’s arms while a few other nobles orbited in the vicinity. The King stumbled forward with the help of the others. He looked just as tired, if not more, than Seongwoo. His eyes were cast downward, and even in the dim morning light, dark circles were detectable beneath them. He shook slightly with each step, clearly exerting high effort to remain upright. Seongwoo overheard everyone speaking as they walked past.

“Are you completely sure you don’t want to remain another night?” Duke Hwang asked in a quiet tone.

“Yes,” Daniel said curtly.

“Your highness, I think you should reconsider the Duke’s invitation,” Jisung said, “You’ve had less than a day’s rest!”

“No,” The King replied, “I want to go home.” 

Duke Hwang gave his highness’s arm a squeeze, “Highness, please… Do not be audacious. You are still quite hurt-”

“Stop talking,” Daniel cut him off gruffly. Both the Duke and Advisor’s eyes went wide. Duke Hwang’s mouth dropped open. “I am going. That is all,” Daniel told the two sternly. The pair helping him floundered slightly. Duke Hwang bit his lip, and Jisung’s jaw hung open limply.

“V-very well,” Duke Hwang said. The trio reached the carriage, and a coachman took over aiding the King as he stepped into the carriage.

“Safe travels, and may God bless you,” The Duke bid farewell.

“I will return to the castle tomorrow. Until then, God bless you,” His highness’s Advisor added. Daniel nodded, muttering a response before disappearing into the coach.

A servant jabbed Seongwoo in the ribs, “Don’t hold up the King!” He said roughly. Seongwoo furrowed his brows at the man but made no other response. Had someone done such a thing perhaps a week earlier, he would have probably made a jab back, but the desire for sleep and generalized aching in his body made small aggressions seem even more inconsequential. He wanted to rest, plain and simple.

Part of him dreamed of security, but in honesty, he couldn’t determine what the word meant to him anymore. Safety and stability felt like such alien concepts to Seongwoo anymore. He did not know what to associate the terms with anymore. He thought that, perhaps, some would picture a bed, the welcoming arms of a loved one, a crackling fireplace or a warm blanket. The only thing he had that he considered comparable was the small assembly of allies he’d befriended in the castle. However, thinking of them in the same way others thought of family caused a hole to form in his heart. He tried not to dwell on it too much. The concubine sighed inwardly, shoving the sinking feeling in his chest aside and approaching the coach.

  
  
  
  
  


Seongwoo stepped into the carriage after his Master, and relief flooded him. He would have felt content if he’d been informed he would never need to step foot near the villa again. Never did he think that he’d welcome the thought of returning to Castle Jeon. He knew he was not destined to spend eternity inside the stony walls of the Kingdom’s crown jewel; however, he resigned himself to spending the immediate future there. The thought had become much more reassuring than it ever should have been after the chaotic hunting trip.

One of the coachmen closed the door of the coach behind Seongwoo as he ducked down to get in. The concubine plopped down on the bench next to his highness and threw the blanket over himself. Daniel, neither fully awake nor asleep, parted his lips slightly. It looked as if a comment lingered at his lips, but he uttered nothing. He merely quirked an eyebrow before turning to face the window on his side. 

The carriages started moving with haste, and the villa’s dark silhouette shrunk until thick woods completely obscured any inclination of the dwelling entirely. Gentle raindrops began pitter-pattering off of the roof of the coach; they created a steady rhythm along with the grinding of wheels and clomping of hooves on the ground. In tandem with the gentle rocking motion, it made Seongwoo’s eyelids fall with heavy weight. His head started nodding forward during his extended lapses of lucidity.

  
Without so much as a single word, an arm looped around the concubine’s shoulders. The King did not move his gaze from the window beside him. He silently pulled Seongwoo close, gently placing his concubine’s head on his shoulder. Seongwoo’s eyes widened, and his heart ceased beating for a few moments. His throat clenched, constricting words and inquiries that would have otherwise spewed out. Warmth ballooned in his chest and pricked his cheeks. His mouth flapped open, but he bit down on his lower lip before anything regretful could come out. He decided that, after sleeping skin to skin with the man naked, using his shoulder as a pillow wasn’t as traumatizing as he would have thought.

Any care or reservation he had soon faded. With a proper perch for his drooping head, his awareness dimmed. Enveloped in warmth both internal and external, he took rest once more.

* * *

 

“Oh my God!” Namjoo and Hayoung gasped, hugging each other close.

“Doctors could study you for how resilient you are,” Eunji remarked, taking a sip of the tea she’d been drinking.

“Doctors ought to be studying those preserves I ate. God knows how old they were… But- I didn’t die! Yet!” Seongwoo gave a hearty laugh. In honesty, recounting the memories so soon gave him mixed emotions. He felt immensely relieved to have gotten out alive. Being back within the walls of Castle Jeon felt surreal to him. He thought he would wake up at any moment from a dream. Sometimes he still wondered if he’d wake up somewhere entirely different, a place a world and a decade away. 

Even though he felt grateful to be safe, all the strange things that had happened, the things that had been said, the things that had almost been done; they muddled his thoughts, melding good, bad, gratefulness, sorrow, comfort, relief… Everything quickly overwhelmed him. He opted to put on a happy face. Surely, nobody wanted to see him upset after hearing about such hardship. He didn’t wish to burden anyone or cause a downcast mood just due to his own misfortunes.

Namjoo tittered,“Not dead yet! That’s something worth toasting, isn’t it?”

“I believe so,” Hayoung added, lifting her goblet, “Seongwoo, why won’t you have a glass of wine with us?”

The concubine shook his head, “Did I not just clearly paint a picture of my sustenance prior to returning to civilization? All I had to eat was pickles, preserves, and rum. I think my body could use a rest.”

“Your body is boring,” Namjoo pouted, sipping out of her goblet.

Eunji rolled her eyes, “Let him be! Still, though… Rum! That’s quite the nostalgic beverage, isn’t it?”

“Quite!” Hayoung commented.

“So I’ve heard,” Seongwoo remarked. It seemed so strange to him that of all parts of his story to fixate on, people chose the rum. He guessed it was due to the fact that he kept out the more salacious details of the nightmarish weekend,“It’s not a delicacy around here, is it?”

“No, no,” Eunji waved dismissively, “We just haven’t stocked it as much in recent years. It’s a bit harder to come by and not very classy- you know, for the courtiers and such. I suppose they think it not worth the trouble.”

“Well, you lot aren’t missing out on much. It tasted awful. Like drinking a cut. Is- is that clear? Does that make sense.”

“It gets across that it was unpleasant!” Eunji’s face pinched into an expression of disgust.

The King and the concubine had arrived back at the castle late that night. The two had been separated. While Seongwoo did not know Daniel’s precise evening agenda, he himself had been given a meal and had retreated to his room to read. 

The majority of their carriage ride had been spent unconscious. In their lapses of consciousness, the two had eaten, drank, and chatted. Neither of them dared mention what had transpired in the days prior. They refused to directly acknowledge it despite the clear effect it had had on their interaction. 

“...Seongwoo?” Eunji’s voice brought the concubine back to attention. He hadn’t realized that his thoughts had trailed off so drastically. The maid sighed, giving him a warm smile, “Alright, ladies. I believe it’s time we let our favorite concubine rest.”

“Awww!” “No fun.” Hayoung and Namjoo wailed protests dramatically. Regardless, they obliged, following Eunji’s lead as she collected the wine and goblets they’d brought. The two lower maids filed out quickly, already on a tangent of their own. Eunji lingered, whispering to Seongwoo:

“You can really fill me in at another time.” She gave him a wink before departing, shutting his bedroom door behind her.

Seongwoo pursed his lips. He wanted to curse Eunji’s perceptiveness, but he appreciated her too much. He’d done nothing to deserve her good graces, yet she happily gave him such kindness while asking nothing in return.

The sound of muffled footsteps sounded out through the door, and Seongwoo readied a quip for when one of the maids came waltzing in. He quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head in confusion when nothing happened. The steps seemed to stop right in front of his door, but they kept moving. Initially, the concubine thought to shrug the small instance off, thinking it a trick of his ears. However, he glanced toward the door and noticed something.

A small piece of paper had been slid under the crack of his door. His heart stopped.

The world stopped.

He bent over and picked it up with a shaky hand. Just as he’d received before: a note sealed with unmarked wax. He inspected it once again. The paper looked clean though not brand new, it had yellowed slightly. Flipping it over he saw no other marks or indentations. No impressions or cut-outs were visible from the outside. With his heart pounding, he ran his finger through the seal and broke it. Slowly, he unfolded it, nibbling his lip as he read it.

The same neat handwriting he had seen before read:

“Trust is key.”

Seongwoo stumbled backward. He bumped into his bed, nearly tripping, but barely noticed. His eyes were glued to the note that had been sent to him. His breath rattled as he glanced at it again and again. He felt as if the pen had dipped into the inkwell and lettered the words into the back of his pupils. His heart jumped into his throat and remained there. It took him ten minutes to realize that he’d taken his eyes off of the note unconsciously. Even so, they’d made their deep impact. 

Finally tearing himself off of his bed, the concubine walked toward his fireplace. He ripped the paper once, then again. He kept ripping until the sheet had been reduced to tiny shreds. He ducked down, readying his hand to throw the scraps into the billowing fire.

“Seongwoo?” A voice rang out behind him from the partition in his wall.

  
The concubine almost leaped up to the ceiling. His heart stopped. He stopped.

“What are you doing so close to the fireplace?” King Daniel asked with concern in his voice, “Are you cold?”

“Nothing!” Seongwoo chirped, rapidly tossing the scraps of the note in before they could be seen.

“What?”

“I- I mean- nothing to worry about, Ma- Daniel.” The concubine stood up and turned around. His brow furrowed in confusion when he saw his highness wrapped in a cloak, leaning heavily on a sheathed sword. “Wh- What’s the sword for, sir- Daniel?”

The King chuckled, looking down at the opulently crafted sword casing, “Unfortunately I am unable to walk without assistance. A cane communicates vulnerability. A sword, however, reminds everyone that I am armed.”

Seongwoo snorted despite himself, his nerves calming down, “Very clever. And the cloak? Are you cold?”

“Actually, I am going outside.  _ We  _ are going outside. Put your cloak on,” Daniel said. The concubine tilted his head in confusion. His first instinct was to not trust the man with the large sword asking him to go for a walk late at night. However, he felt confident he could disarm Daniel before he attempted any harm. It seemed unlike the King to try inflicting harm in such a way or at all. Ong obliged, finding a thick black cloak that had been hanging in his wardrobe and slipping on his boots.

Despite his injury, the King still led the way, and the concubine followed. The two took their time strolling to whatever destination King Daniel had decided would be their stop. They idly chatted for a bit until they reached the bottom floor (a feat Daniel could not achieve without help from the concubine). Aside from a few guards and servants, the two encountered nobody on their late night walk.

“Seongwoo,” Daniel said, “I ought to let you know why I’ve dragged you out so late.”

“If you so desire,” Seongwoo shrugged, “You are the King, you can tell me whatever you want to.”

His highness chuckled, “I suppose you are correct. But- I digress. You know, this isn’t my first late night walk.”

“No? May I speak freely?”

“Always.”

A tiny grin crossed Ong’s lips, “Well, you don’t strike me as the late night walk type. Or the late night anything. You sleep rather impressively.”

“A good night’s sleep is good for your health!”

“You must be very healthy.”

“I must admit, it is not something I do often- not anymore. As a matter of fact, I never engaged in such deviance until much later in life.” Their steps echoed loudly in the empty corridors. Ong wondered where they were going as the King continued, “Yes, I must have been… Fifteen when I first took a walk so late.”

“Fifteen?” Seongwoo dramatically scoffed, “What did you do prior? Stay in bed?”

“Perhaps,” Daniel shrugged. The concubine laughed. “The first person to drag me out at night was my cousin, Somi. She wasn’t a queen at the time- far from it. She was a child. Eleven years old.” Seongwoo’s bright mood faltered at the mention of Somi. Last time she’d been brought up between them, things had ended horribly. He decided against making any comment unless prompted, lest he ignite another bad episode.

“At eleven she had more boldness than anyone I knew. People twice her age- thrice even- paled in comparison. I mean, she just- any room she stepped into became brighter. If she laughed, everyone laughed, and she was so good at just about everything she tried. Singing, dancing, poetry, prose… I always felt so privileged saying she was related to me. She was more of a sister to me than anything.

And, here I was, age fifteen, and an eleven-year-old is dragging me around telling me how to make life more interesting. She was the one who encouraged me to sneak off and practice dancing while others sparred. She once set three hogs loose in court. I don’t know  _ how  _ she got ahold of hogs. 

So one night I’m woken up by a barrage of pillows. It must be midnight or perhaps one. The moon was high in the sky, I remember that. Turns out my lovely cousin fancies a walk in the gardens. She insisted that they were the best during that time. I was half asleep, but you couldn’t really say no to her. She had that sort of manner with people. So after some grumbling, I got dressed and we snuck out.

She decided we were going to catch frogs. Of course, frogs are in very wet, dirty places. I had some trauma relating to frogs, so I was extra panicked about the ordeal, but she kept saying how it was going to be fine. 

It was not fine.

I fell into one of the ponds on the far end of the gardens. Mind you, it was shallow, but I’m an idiot. I flailed about and started panicking. She triumphantly brandished a toad she’d managed to catch in the meanwhile, completely ignoring me! When she finally realized my thrashing about was not me cheering her on, she ran to get help. She ended up grabbing a servant since she didn’t want to be scolded- one of our head maids now. 

This pissed off maid trudges along behind Somi over to the pond where I’m still bobbing about like an ass. She shows up, puts her hands on her hips, and yells, ‘Stand up!’”

Seongwoo giggled at the vividly painted picture.

The King shook his head, chuckling, “I thought it was a ridiculous thing to ask of me. I start putting my legs down, thinking ‘How silly, she’ll see I can’t- oh! I can touch!’. I stand up, soaking wet, covered in mud and algae. I don’t think the maid thought it funny, but Somi found hilarious. She burst out laughing, we were certain the guards were going to come. To counteract their possible discovery of two young idiots roaming around at night, we thought it best to crawl around on the ground. The logic was that we would be harder to detect.”

“Were you?” Seongwoo asked.

“Us? Perhaps. The maid didn’t seem to care she just walked next to us. Was awful nice, helped us clean up once we got in. Nobody said a word.”

“Did you ever actually catch a toad?”

“I- You know what… I did not,” His highness’s shoulders shook with laughter. The two slowly made their way toward a door that led outside, leaving Seongwoo even more curious.

“May I ask what this has to do with our late night meeting, then?” The concubine inquired, nibbling on his lower lip in anticipation.

“Well… The last time… No,” Daniel labored to choose the words he wanted before carrying on, “When Somi was first brought up between is it was in quite a negative way. I dealt with it in a contemptible way. I do not mean to excuse myself, but I want you to understand I did so because I cherished her. She was a sister me. As a queen she was- she was perfect, adored. She’d hardly had any time on the throne before…” He sighed, frowning slightly, “Never mind that. I just- I lost my temper when you implied that I had a hand in it, in killing my own sister.”

Having the memory dredged up left a bad feeling in the pit of Seongwoo’s stomach. He’d stuffed the memory of that night, of all of his early nights in the castle, away.

The two finally reached one of the heavy looking doors leading outside. His highness nodded to the guard on duty, and the guard opened the door for the pair in turn. The concubine helped his Master out the door. He felt relieved as he stepped into the clear night air; he felt as if it cleared his mind, his senses. The door shut behind them, and he finally got a moment to take in the sight.

Seongwoo looked out at the green expanse before him. Moonlight gave every single leaf, flower, and blade of grass an ethereal luminescence. The still ponds reflected the silver-edged clouds above like a looking glass. Ong inhaled deeply, taking in as much fresh air as he possibly could; the cool air smelled of rain and earth. The concubine’s eyes reflexively closed. Even if only for a few minutes, he wanted to take in as much as possible.

“What is this?” Seongwoo asked.

King Daniel turned to him and simply said, “An apology.”

Seongwoo fidgeted; his eyes darted between his Master and the gardens in front of him. Finally, the concubine frowned,“A trip to the garden so late…” He muttered.

“I like the gardens at night. It is quiet, and on clear nights like this, the moon makes everything look beautiful,” The King said, “Of course…” He glanced at Ong, “You shall have to come during daylight on your own time.”

Seongwoo blinked.

He blinked again.

Slowly processing the King’s words, excitement bubbled up in his chest. He quickly snuffed it in order to curb any naive optimism.

“On… My own time?” The concubine said. He hoped his tone did not sound too hopeful, too eager.

“Of course.” King Daniel nodded. “If- If you want to. I am not forcing you to-”

“You’re letting me go outside?!” Ong blurted out. He immediately pressed his lips together at the embarrassing exclamation. After the hellish hunting trip, the prospect should not have been as exciting, but he couldn’t help his giddiness. Having the privilege to go out on his own time, untethered, felt so much better.

“Yes.” The King turned to look him in the eye earnestly, “Seongwoo, I am truly, genuinely sorry for hurting you. For everything… All you have been put through because of me. As I said, I loved my cousin dearly. I- I- lost my temper when you implied that I had been responsible for hurting her. That gives me no excuse to treat you the way I did. That is not the kind of ruler I want to be, nor the kind of person I wish to be. I- I know it happened what feels like long ago, but… It has been tormenting me since it occurred,” He took a few steps closer to Seongwoo and did something that made the concubine’s jaw drop. 

With wide eyes, Seongwoo watched as King Daniel, divine ruler of the Kang Empire, the highest sovereign in the land, dropped down to one knee and dipped his head. 

The King bowed to the concubine.

After a few moments of quiet, the King’s head lifted and he spoke once more, “It does not need to be tonight or tomorrow or- or even in a week’s time, but… Seongwoo do you think you can forgive me?”

Seongwoo found himself at a complete loss of words. His heartbeat pounded more loudly than his thoughts, and it took them a few seconds to catch up. He knew nothing: not what to think, what to feel; any and all notions regarding how to act in such a situation had been utterly lost. Never before had such a thing happened to him. The concubine swallowed and willed himself to return to Earth. He searched for words, but the constriction of his throat made it difficult to even attempt getting any out.

“Yes… I- I suppose with time,” The concubine said weakly. Without thinking, he murmured,“You trust me?” Only the most honest, prevailing thoughts in his mind had managed to escape his lips, and he regretted the last utterance the second it’d left his mouth. It had occurred to him many times that with the opportunity of going outside he could find a way to escape; he could even try to establish communication with contacts. Had the King not considered such a possibility?

King Daniel eyed him up and down before responding, “I do... In a way.”

“In a way...? In what way? What makes you think I won’t make a break for it the moment I’m given time alone outside?” Ong asked. He couldn’t identify whether the pricks of nerves he felt were due to anxiety or excitement at the prospect of an escape. Part of him recognized that saying such a thing could backfire severely, but he wondered if the King was truly as stupid as his apology had led him to believe. He thought he’d known Daniel better than that by that point, but perhaps not.

“You could,” Daniel said plainly with a shrug. “You could run right now. Shall I give you a head start?” He turned to his concubine and gave him a smirk. The colloquial tone set Seongwoo’s teeth on edge.

“You seem quite confident that I wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“I will not pretend to know your character intimately, but… Call it a hunch. I do not trust you out of the goodness of my heart; nor do I do so because I am stupid, which I am sure you think-” Seongwoo almost broke out into a smile at that. Almost. King Daniel continued, “- I trust that the kind of freedom you would achieve by running off is not the kind of freedom you desire.”

Seongwoo quirked an eyebrow, “How do you figure?” He conceded: the King was sharper than he let on. He made a mental note to stop underestimating the man.

“If you were to run off, I would send the guards after you, of course.”

“And if I shook off the guards?”

“Then you would be pursued by men on horseback who would no doubt outrun you.”

“What if I managed to evade them? Lose them in the woods?”

“Then those men would be sent to the nearest villages asking for a man of your name and description until they found you.”

“I could change my name and appearance.”

“In that case, I can find you myself. I guarantee I would not mistake you. I will track you to the ends of the world.”

“You would truly dedicate all of your time and energy to searching for a- a single concubine?! I could keep hiding- finding new aliases, new villages-” Seongwoo couldn’t help but snort.

“You could,” The King cut him off. “But you won’t, will you?”

The concubine looked at his Master vexedly. Pouting, he responded, “What makes you so sure?”

A small grin graced King Daniel’s lips, “Seongwoo, the very first moment I laid eyes on you, and you looked at me…” He seemed to think carefully about his words, “I… I suppose I could tell that… You are not the type to hide. Far from it. Should you leave me, slinking away in the darkness is not how you will do it. Hell,” He chuckled, “I imagine if you did leave it, would likely involve me getting punched in the face much like the Duke did. Or, maybe you’ll burn some things down, knock furniture over, break the windows...” He shrugged. Seongwoo pressed his lips together, stubbornly suppressing the grin that curled at his lips. “However, I doubt that will happen, too.”

“So you think I will pass up an easy escape because I… have a flair for the dramatic?”

“I think you will pass up an ‘easy’ escape because you are smarter than that.”

“And if I’m not? If I do take the ‘easy’ way out- if I run, you’ll do what again?”

“Then I will chase you. I will hunt you down to the ends of the world if only to spite you.”

“And if I hide?”

“I will find you.”

The concubine gritted his teeth at the man’s stubbornness, “And  _ why _ ? Why- when there are so many others like me- even just in the castle! Why would you take such efforts to hunt  _ me  _ down?!”

“Because you are mine,” The King looked at him with eyes unwavering.

Something about the frankly delivered statement made Seongwoo freeze. His heart wrenched. The ruler sounded incredibly resolute in his assertion; the concubine’s ideas of escape began fading, dissolving in the swill of his contemplations. The man he’d thought of as acquiescent to a fault had drawn a line, and, despite the King’s often compassionate nature, Seongwoo got the impression that on this issue the man would not yield. It was strange to think, so much progress had been made in a way, yet they’d nearly circled back to where they’d begun: a concubine wishing for release and a King refusing to let go of him. Seongwoo thought that perhaps it was a bit of an oversimplification, but he didn’t wish to dwell on the feelings that tied him down to the castle.

The concubine examined the gardens once more. They were truly beautiful. As the King had said, the moon’s light gave the place a divine beauty of sorts. Seongwoo resigned himself. He decided: his road to freedom was not to be taken via the gardens. As much as he despised it, King Daniel was right. He did not wish to spend his foreseeable future with the palace guard or even the military at his tail. Still, he thought: at the very least, one could appreciate the gardens as a brief respite in the meanwhile.

Sighing in defeat, Seongwoo finally replied, “So it is… I suppose asking nicely will not get me what I want either.”

The King spent some time considering his response, he opened his mouth once to say something but closed it quickly after. When he opened it the second time, he gave his concubine his response.

“As I said before… You are mine.”

With that, he turned around and walked back toward the palace doors. Seongwoo’s heart dropped upon hearing his answer. Realistically, he hadn’t expected anything, but hearing such a dismissive response served to upset his scarcely cobbled together nerves further. Once again, the King had reached into his head only to tangle up the ideas and impressions he’d just managed to get into some semblance of order.

Seongwoo began feeling frustrated. Every time King Daniel showed some sliver of graciousness, it was quickly followed with some painful reminder of his life’s reality. Ong lamented his position, wishing he could have been taken as a servant or even a prisoner. At least then he would not have had to navigate the emotional and mental warzone that was concubinedom. 

“Are you coming?” King Daniel turned around and asked. The voice roused Seongwoo from his reflections. “Or would you like me to give you that head start we talked about?”

The concubine knew the King had meant to be lighthearted, but he did not appreciate having his lack of freedom lorded in front of him like a joke. Frowning, the concubine trudged over to take his Master’s side, following him into the castle and back to where their bedchambers were.

A small portion of Ong wished he had killed the King when he’d had the chance.


	21. The Start of Spring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 21 WARNING(s): N/A

Seongwoo woke with a start. He jolted upwards, limbs tangling in the silky sheets until they wrapped around him like tendrils. His hand shot to his constricted throat. He breathed rapidly in an attempt to intake any meaningful amount of air into his lungs. Violent shivers caused his entire body to tremble. The cool morning air hitting him made goosebumps form on his sweaty, clammy skin. Before the concubine could even wake up, a tear fell from one of his eyes. How long had it been there, just on the cusp of falling? He had no idea. The concubine sniffled. He yanked his blanket over his shoulders, hugging it tightly to his shaking body.

 

It had happened again.

 

The concubine had thought that upon returning to the relative safety of the Castle, his anxieties would be soothed. He became incredibly dismayed when he realized that had not been the case. Waking up the first night with a fright seemed reasonable, in his perspective. The second night, he’d been roused from sleep twice. The third he’d slept through, but woken up in the morning only to pass out from breathing struggles.

 

Terror had wrested control of nighttime from Seongwoo. He’d felt progressively worse waking up each morning; it no longer surprised him when he realized he’d gone over a week without meaningful rest.

 

Seongwoo wrung his hands down his face. He gripped the blanket huddled around him tightly, slowly tracing a thumb over the edge of the fabric. Squeezing his eyes shut, he went through the procedure to calm himself down. Bringing the silken material to his face, he took a deep, long breath.

 

* * *

 

“You must elaborate! I demand it,” Girlish tittering tickled Seongwoo’s ears beside him. He snorted at Yeri’s impatient insistence. In his short time knowing her, she’d not once struck him as the type to accept a “no”. He anticipated no change in the trait regarding their conversation.

 

After being given access to the gardens, Seongwoo made a point to go out every day. It’d been just over a week since his return to Castle Jeon, and he’d used his time to explore every nook and crevice of the large outdoor space. Daniel had described it fairly well; various cultures and influences could be seen throughout the gardens. 

 

Not many plants had flowered, which made discerning the precise origin of many things difficult. However, Seongwoo could make guesses based on the general shapes and layouts of the spaces, as well as the decor and furnishings. Some sitting areas had winding paths of geometric stone leading to arbors. Their straight, clean lines looked incredibly meticulous yet simultaneously effortless. Just seeing such unsullied beauty put one at ease.

 

Other areas were encircled in neatly trimmed hedges. Finicky little tables with impossibly detailed carvings sat surrounded by uncomfortable looking chairs. The focal point of such little areas were typically a fountain. Or three. The Jeons had clearly spared no expense in weaving together their quilt of garden leisure.

  
Seongwoo had started his morning like any other. He’d gone to the baths, then to one of the servant’s dining rooms for breakfast. He had plucked a book from a study nearby (a book on flower anatomy, quite the thriller) and took it to the gardens. He’d managed to last nearly an hour before Yeri yanked him away from the bench he’d been sitting on.

 

The second the noble girl had caught wind of Seongwoo returning, she eagerly sent a messenger to call after him. When he’d written her that they could walk the gardens, she’d waited no longer than until the next morning to drag him there herself.

 

Seongwoo had quickly integrated walking the gardens with her into his routine. She’d gossip about what had happened in court, what people’d been wearing. Seongwoo would laugh along, giving a few quips or anecdotes on his part. He would hold her parasol and she would use her fan as a prop to act out the stories she told. It was an unlikely friendship that the two had, yet Ong couldn’t help noting that there was an easiness about it. Yeri harassed him like he would expect a little sister to, and he could never stop himself from indulging her. Unlike other nobles, she’d not once given him a suspicious sideways glance or whispered something as he walked by. If she had any quarrel or opinion, she saw fit to express it with immediacy and a dramatic flair. Seongwoo respected that.

 

“I promise you, it would bore you,” The concubine said.

 

“I refuse to believe that you slept for- for what? Over twenty-four hours,” Yeri put a hand on her hip; the other one furiously fanned at her pouting face. As he’d expected, word of the hunting debacle had gotten out at court. Whispers erupted throughout the castle so fierce that the sound of them echoed like rumbling thunder. Yeri had been pestering Ong for days, begging he tell her the “true” story. At first he’d given her a stern rejection, but, as time went on, she persisted. Seongwoo became inclined to tell her  _ something _ , even if not the entire, explicit truth. Thinking honestly to himself, he desired to forget about the entire weekend for a slew of reasons.

 

“May I ask why you are so insistent on knowing? What enrichment to your life will the story grant you?”

 

“That’s the silliest question I’ve ever heard,” Yeri animatedly scoffed, “The pursuit of discovery and knowledge is a divine one. Also, the stories in court have been getting more obscene.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yes! I was playing cards just last night with the baroness- Irene, you may have seen her, short dame. Anyways- we were playing cards and I overhead a ruckus a few tables over. A couple of concubines actually- they got some nobles nice and drunk. One of the noblemen said that he had heard from servant that General Park had fought off savage men to save the King. They were alleging that he was being…” She hushed her voice, “Debauched. That a crazed naked man was found on top of him. Can you believe that? I mean- what nerve to be speaking of our King like that? And of such a situation so lightly? In a public place no less. I told you, noblemen are the  _ worst _ .”

 

Part of the concubine felt deeply offended by the perversion of the truth that had been spewed out by the stranger. Another part felt slightly humored. Yeri seemed fired up enough as it were; so, Ong saw fit to disregard his personal grips, opting to maintain a cheery air.

 

“I am not sure whether I ought to be grateful or offended that I am completely omitted from most of these stories.”

 

“Well you are concubine to the King. Perhaps if this had happened to a Duke or a Baron you would be more involved, but the King? It’s all anyone can talk about. Except,” She halted, turning on her heel look at the concubine. Her arms crossed and she gave Seongwoo her fiercest gaze, “Except for you. You’re awfully quiet.”

 

Seongwoo chuckled nervously. He wondered if it had dawned on the girl how taxing the experience had been. Surely if it had, she would have acted more courteously. He got the feeling that her impression of the entire thing had been severely watered down by hearsay. He wanted to shake her and tell her that it had left him scarred in ways more than physical, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He couldn’t bear the thought of putting that harsh reality into perspective for her. Yeri, despite the struggles she cited, lived a fairly enchanted life. Her presence was effervescent and her eyes full of light. Despite his resentment for the Kang Kingdom, for the status quo to which Yeri so devoutly abided, he desired to preserve her relative innocence.

 

“Alright,” Seongwoo threw his hands up, “I give. I will tell you the incredibly boring tale of how I spent one of the worst trips of my life.”

 

Yeri grinned, “I knew you would confide in me at some point.”

 

“I know when I am defeated,” Ong gave a shrug, “But first, I’m curious. You say you’ve many things. Pray tell: what do you think happened?”

 

“A fair question,” The noble girl nodded, looking up in thought, “Well… I think most are at a consensus regarding the start of the day. From what I heard, things had gone quite well. It’s just chaos after lunch, though.”

 

“That’s not an inaccurate take on it, I suppose.”

 

“Yes, well- I’ve heard versions, but I believe…” She tapped her fan on her chin as she formulated her ideas, “You were chased about by bandits, yes? I suppose in the chaos you all got separated. I imagine you found a hiding spot. You are clever, I have no doubt you could outfox a common thief. Then… I’m not sure,” She pursed her lips, “But! You reunited! With the King! He had a ghastly number done on him when you found him, I bet. He seemed in fairly good condition relative to his short time back. So, I am led to believe that he somehow managed to mend his wounds to some extent,” The noble girl eyed the concubine, “Or, more rightly, he had help.”

 

Pink tinted Seongwoo’s ears and he chuckled awkwardly. He wasn’t sure quite why the insinuation embarrassed him; it had been the truth. She did not accuse him of committing some heinous atrocity. Truthfully, any implications linking him to Daniel made his insides turn. The man exerted such a strange influence over the concubine. Seongwoo feared that even upon his bindings being removed, Daniel’s hold on him would remain. The thought terrified him. 

 

Even so, the concubine had made a determined decision to move forward. So long as he avoided reflecting heavily on the hunting weekend, he felt progressively more comfortable in the King’s presence. He no longer immediately registered the other as a high threat, and the other’s mood in his proximity had been much more stable. Neither insistently pulled the other toward them nor did they purposefully push the other’s vulnerable spots. Seongwoo had by no means sought out the presence of his Master, but when he’d found it, things felt infinitely easier.

 

“Alright, you win. I will tell you the truth,” Seongwoo said.

 

“Brilliant!”

 

“The truth is,” He started, “God’s angels came down in a loud fanfare and delivered me unto the Earth as his second son-”

 

Yeri smacked Seongwoo with her fan, “Seongwoo!” She laughed, “The truth!”

 

“That is what happened!” He laughed, scrunching his nose, “Fine. You win, you win! You weren’t terribly inaccurate-”

 

“And?”

 

“I- Let me speak!”

 

“You have had days to speak, Seongwoo. I think that is plenty of time.”

 

“Leading up to the afternoon, things had gone normally. The whole trip had a rather gloomy feeling, the skies were very gray. Unsurprisingly, it started to rain. Things got…” The mental image began materializing around him. His vision of the garden slowly began fading, giving way to memory, “Chaotic. To be honest I- I did not see much. The rain came down so violently I barely saw anything. It wasn’t until the huntsman’s horse was downed that I realized anything had been amiss. Prior to that, I assumed the yelling was just due to the deer being found.” Yeri gasped, watching Seongwoo intently as he told his account.

 

“My Master and I, we were separated. I- I imagine we all were. I-” He nibbled on his lower lip, thinking about how they’d been bucked, how they ran for their lives together, “I was shaken from the horse. As was he, eventually, I suppose. They weren’t after me, though, so they pursued him. I suppose I followed unconsciously. Perhaps some urge to be near someone I knew. Maybe I believed I could help him.”

 

“Oh,” Yeri reached out to grab Seongwoo’s hand gingerly. She gave it a reassuring squeeze. “But you did both survived. Do you know what happened to the King after that?”

 

Seongwoo shook his head, “The next thing I knew, I found him washed up on a riverbank. I must have been wandering for a long time.” He lied. He had no interest in divulging what had truly happened on that river bank to anyone. 

 

“Wow! What a miracle to have happened upon the King! Was he hurt? Well, I suppose he must have been.”

 

“He was in awful shape, but conscious. We, um, we walked. For a long, long time. Eventually, we found shelter. That cabin.”

 

“And that is where you stayed for the next two nights? Did you try finding your way back to the villa?”

 

“No, Master couldn’t move in his condition. I was rather exhausted myself. Most of my energy went to plugging up all the hole they’d put in the King.” He tried to sound lighthearted, but it fell flat given the gruesome reality of the comment.

 

“What did you do? Did you eat? Was there anything to drink? You must have been  _ freezing _ . How did his highness not get sick?!”

 

“That’s,” Seongwoo held up his hands, “A lot of questions. Some of which I cannot answer, to be honest. Both of us were in a state of disarray. The small cottage had a few rations left. As for the King’s health… A miracle, I suppose.” A miracle, he thought, and a lot of rum.

 

“So- so you were rescued, right? General Park found you?”

 

“Yes he certainly did,” The concubine replied. He neglected to mention that the so-called “crazed naked man” had been him. “God… God bless him,” He gave Yeri the most grateful looking grin he could muster.

 

“And then you came back!” Yeri added chipperly. The concubine gave her a grin. He felt satisfied with the version of the truth he’d given her. “Wait…”

 

“What is it? Does the truth bore you? Because I said it would-”

 

“No,” Yeri wagged a finger in the man’s face, “You never told me what occupied you for over a day?”

 

“Sleeping! I did tell you.”

 

“Oh, really? You two truly slept all that time? I don’t believe it.”

 

“So perhaps we may have conscious. It wasn’t as if we moved, we just… Stayed in the bed.”

 

“So there was a bed?”

 

“Wh- I- I-” Seongwoo’s jaw dropped, and warmth poured into his face, “What are you wishing to hear?”

 

“Nothing,” Yeri looked away in an attempt to look aloof; however, her grin gave her away, “Nothing at all, just… Two people cooped up, desperate, needing to stay warm…”

 

“You seem to view things through an awfully romantic lense.”

 

“Well I have to,” She pouted, “I know nothing of love. I can only live through the romance of others vicariously.”

 

“It was not romantic. It was terrifying.”

 

“But you got through it together,” She clasped her hands and giggled. Seongwoo felt half a desire to strangle the girl. The other half of him wanted to pat her head and give her a kiss. Even with her flippant regard of the situation, her bright-eyed optimism managed to endear Seongwoo. Ultimately, he preferred her ridiculous fantasies to thickly laid on condolences or, God forbid, pity. 

 

“Would you feel better if I told you we frolicked through the woods and rode off on a white horse?”

 

“No, but I am curious how you two entertained yourselves in bed,” She said impishly.

 

The concubine’s jaw dropped open,“Wh- You are a child. Go read a bible!”

 

“I am not asking for any gory details, just something… Implicit.”

 

“We  _ slept _ . We slept in the bed,” Seongwoo felt tempted to smack her with her own parasol. “I am serious, you are so young to even think of things like that.”

 

“Ugh, I am not a child, Seongwoo. There are concubines like yourself younger than I am. Or- don’t tell me, you truly believe the ‘purity’ image that us girl sell?”

 

“I do not care what you are selling, you are to sell it far, far away from me, my lady,” Ong said.

 

“I am just teasing!” Yeri laughed, “I’m sorry, Seongwoo. I know it is a bit ungracious of me. You just get so riled, it can be quite fun.”

 

The concubine shook his head, “God help the person who takes your hand in marriage.”

 

“God help them, indeed,” Yeri nodded in agreement. “If my future husband is to be anything like the men I have seen in court I may kill him in his sleep.”

 

“If he is anything like the men of the court, I cannot blame you.”

 

Abruptly, Yeri gasped. She halted, sticking her fan out to bar Seongwoo from moving any further. He walked straight into her extended arm, stumbling. The concubine tipped a confused eyebrow at the girl.

 

Giddily, the noble girl jumped up, grabbing Seongwoo’s hand, “There’s going to be so many visitors soon, though. Perhaps I can meet someone special!”

 

“Visitors? What are you talking about?”

 

“The Harvest Festival, of course! One of the few times a year Castle Jeon is opened to the public! I- You are not aware? Wait- of course you’re not. You’re new, I’m sorry. It’s one of the most exciting-”

 

“My lady, you are speaking rather quickly, would you do me the favor of slowing down?”

 

Yeri squealed, “The Harvest Festival!” She said in a singsong voice, “Alright. Okay. Slowing down,” She recomposed herself. The two walked through one of the more ornately curated sections of the garden at a leisurely pace. Green leaves were already poking out from the soil in the flower beds, and leaves had begun unfurling on the trees. Ong thought the place provided an ideal backdrop for the girl’s explanation.

 

“The Harvest Festival is a celebration of spring. People from the nation are all invited to the grounds to engage in the festivities.  It is quite the fanfare. There are musicians, dancers, foods of all kinds. People play games and compete in sports. Actors put on plays… It is a sampling of the Kingdom’s finest experiences, all over the span of a few days.”

 

“And that is… Soon?”

 

“It must be within the month!” Yeri said, “And this will be my first time attending as a girl of the court!” She clapped excitedly, “Mama and Papa would take me when I was younger, but now I am free to go on my own. It’s going to be so much fun!”

 

“Do you think you will learn what love is, then?”

 

“Perhaps I shall! At the very least, I will look beautiful and eat very well. That is enough for me.”

 

“Wise,” Seongwoo remarked, “They say love will come and find you when you least expect it. Best not to chase it around lest you scare it away.”

 

“Are you saying that I will scare someone away?!” Yeri asked, feigning offense.

 

“My lips remain sealed on this matter,” The concubine grinned.

 

“Seongwoo!” She smacked the concubine with her fan again, giggling. 

 

The two walked onward, chatting gleefully. The breeze rustling the leaves felt warm against Seongwoo’s skin, telling him that spring was truly upon them. Yeri ranted about more abhorrent people she’d met in court, and Ong contentedly listened. The two discussed what type of dances would be seen and how traditional court rules were often bent during large scale events.

 

The concubine took a deep breath. He took in the scent of wet earth and trees. Soon, he thought, soon everything would be in full bloom.

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo stretched his body lethargically and let out a yawn. He and Sungwoon walked side by side, ambling in no direction in particular. The two of them had eaten well in the servant's dining room. They strolled aimlessly in an attempt to walk off the feeling of heaviness left by their generous portions.

 

“Yes, terribly afraid,” Sungwoon commented as the two walked a hallway.

 

“Someone with his stature? Paralyzed by the sight of bugs?” Seongwoo chuckled. The older concubine had been recounting a tale in which the King (years prior to actually being King) had run from a dinner screaming due to a bug. 

 

“Why? Do you enjoy bugs?”

 

“Well- No, but… Screaming?”

 

“Oh, yes. The King has a severe fear. He will not hesitate to scream- Just like that.” Sungwoon remarked. Suddenly, he blinked confusedly. Seongwoo tilted his head and his brows knit together. He thought he’d heard it too. 

 

The pair had been walking with no particular route and had ended up not far from the throne room. Ahead of them, one of the grand doors to the chamber hung slightly ajar, and from it, sound came out. The two looked at one another. While they did not explicitly ask whether or not the other wanted to eavesdrop, their expressions said enough. The two quietly paced over to the opening, just barely letting their gazes linger beyond the door.

 

“Just pick one,” Jisung groaned, “It’s not as if I have extensive knowledge of these things, either.”

 

“Why the hell am I tasked with planning such an extraneous affair anyway? Don’t we have people for this?”

 

“Typically, it is someone else’s responsibility, however, it is to fall on you in our circumstances.”

 

“Can you not shoulder more of this weight? You know I am busy as is figuring out allocations for the southeast and trying to negotiate peace with the Bae Empire…”

 

“Yes, that is all crucial, however, we cannot neglect the significance of our culture’s tradition.”

 

“Who typically is responsible for this? Why can we not ask them?”

 

“It is usually a queen’s duty. However, you don’t  _ have  _ a queen, your highness.”

 

Daniel narrowed his eyes with resentment, “What are you implying?”

 

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Just that having a queen would have made your life infinitely easier. In many ways.”

 

The King rolled his eyes, looking at the empty vase with disdain, “Not this again. You are more meddling than a mother.”

 

“You know my motive for pestering you is more than mere ‘meddling’. I love you like a brother. I worry about you and the Kingdom. Need I remind you that a line of succession needs to be established here?”

 

“Oh, my God.”

 

“Or would you prefer to let the stability of the Kingdom teeter constantly? Think of the successful execution of this Festival as a way to appeal yourself.”

 

“This whole spiel is quite rich coming from you of all people!”

 

“Well, this isn’t about me! I’m not a King!”

 

“So? Who will inherit your estate should anything happen to you?”

 

“Don’t you redirect this onto me.”

 

Seongwoo and Sungwoon watched on in bemusement as the two nagged one another. Their argument went back and forth like tennis; however, neither gave the impression of taking hard offense to any of the comments made. 

 

“Wh- oh hello,” Jisung suddenly noticed the two who had been peeking through the door. Seongwoo’s eyes widened and Sungwoon grinned sheepishly. The King’s head turned in their direction, and he gave them a polite nod.

 

His majesty chuckled, “My Seongwoo and your Sungwoon together, what a coincidence. I trust you two have had a good evening so far?” Both Sungwoon and Seongwoo bowed to greet the King. 

 

“Yes, yes,” Seongwoo replied; the two nodded.

 

“Excellent. Apologies if our consulting disturbed your evening walk.”

 

“O-oh, we did not mean to disturb your meeting at all!” Seongwoo said.

 

“It’s no disturbance, really. We came to a… Stopping point.”

 

“Yes just some talk of flowers,” Jisung corroborated the man’s point. The concubines exchanged skeptical looks. “The King loves concepts of both forsythia and plum blossoms but can’t quite commit to one.”

 

“Why not ask for a sample of each and pick a preference based off of that?” Seongwoo asked. He pressed his lips together swiftly, realizing the unsolicited tip may be read as disrespectful.

 

Jisung opened his mouth, but the King spoke before the advisor could, “That is a splendid idea.” He said, giving a sideways glance to the man next to him. 

 

“Wait!” Daniel said suddenly. His eyes darted between Jisung and the concubines. All parties involved save for his highness looked at him in bafflement. “I have a solution to propose.”

 

“A solution?” The advisor asked.

 

“Yes, a solution. You and I are incredibly busy, and, well planning such events typically fall on a queen’s shoulders. I have no queen, but,” He looked at Seongwoo, “I do have a concubine who is quite clever and well spoken. In tandem with Sungwoon’s years of experience in the castle and organization…”

 

Jisung spoke to Daniel with a hushed voice, eyeing the concubines,“Your highness, a-are you proposing that we put one of the Castle’s largest celebrations on the shoulders of-”

 

“Of what, exactly?” Sungwoon said. He crossed his arms insolently as if to dare Jisung to say something derogatory. Seeing such a display of defiance toward the typical concubine-Master relation cast a thick aura of tension in the room.

 

“Of- of-” Jisung’s lips snapped shut. Seongwoo had to stop himself from gawking at the interaction. Who exactly among the two was the Master? He knew that Sungwoon had a rather blunt way about him with other concubines and servants. However, the man’s careful regard for tradition and decorum led Seongwoo to believe he would have been nothing but subservient to his own Master.

 

“Well, of course, we will allow them to tell everyone that they are acting on our behalf,” Daniel spoke in hopes of cutting through the awkwardness. “We can set them up with the appropriate letters and give them our signets so they can move freely. If need be, I have a feeling that they could even make a rather convincing facsimile of my handwriting,” He looked pointedly at the pair. 

 

“What?” Jisung looked lost.

 

“Nevermind that. We are busy, and they  _ would  _ be acting on our behalf, technically. We just do not need to inform people that the executive, creative decisions are theirs. Of course- I am getting ahead of myself” King Daniel turned to the two concubines, regarding them politely, “Seongwoo, Sungwoon, as you can see the Advisor and I are struggling to plan a festival on top of keeping up with our duties to court. You are by no means obligated, but… I believe the pair of you more than capable enough to plan a beautiful festival, something everyone could enjoy. Would you please help plan the Harvest Festival?” He asked earnestly, nibbling on his lip in anticipation.

 

“Of course, your highness,” Sungwoon said in a tone that sounded almost too gracious. Jisung’s jaw locked into a frown.

 

“I- Yes, I would… Do… That,” Seongwoo did not think it possible for him to offer help in a more awkward way. The request surprised him, to say the least. Being offered such a responsibility, such a daunting task, felt unreal to him. The idea of having some goal or end to work toward in the meanwhile thrilled him more than it should have. He almost felt guilty for how giddy it made him. To have some sort of purpose, a goal that didn’t hinge on someone’s death or disappearance, it made him feel a bit more alive.

 

“Thank you,” Daniel said, sounding genuinely grateful.

 

“Yes, thank you both,” Jisung gave a shallow bow of thanks. 

 

“Now, your majesty,” Sungwoon said, “I am happy to take on this task, but admittedly unfamiliar with the most intimate details. Would you be able to recommend a starting point? If you could extend such kindness, that is.”

 

“No need to be so meek about it. It is I who approached you, Sungwoon,” Daniel replied. “I will arrange time for a meeting tomorrow during which we can explain in detail what you two will be responsible for. There will be a few arrangements needed to assure you can work as you need to. I will send a messenger to Jisung’s quarters in the morning with details for you, is that alright?”

 

Sungwoon nodded, a small grin on his lips, “Sounds perfect, your majesty.”

 

“Excellent,” Daniel said with a nod. He grinned widely, “Such a relief, truly. You two will be an immense help.”

 

“We are honored to be in your service, King,” Sungwoon replied. “Did you have any further business you needed assistance with at the time?”

 

The King shook his head, “I believe that is all for tonight. You two are dismissed- unless, the Advisor needs anything. Advisor?” Jisung pursed his lips and shook his head. “Very well, then,” Daniel said, “You two have a good night. Rest well.”

 

The concubines bowed as they departed, wishing their masters good nights. The two started off once more, this time with more on their minds.

 

“I believe it best we find some reading material,” Sungwoon said, leading the other toward one of the castle’s many studies.

 

“I agree. It’s best we go in with some semblance of preparation. Do you know exactly what this process will entail?”

 

“Not particularly, unfortunately. All I can think to do is to gather some materials regarding anything we may need to know of. Music, flowers, celebrations…”

 

“Sounds good,” Seongwoo replied. 

 

For a while, only the sound of footsteps bouncing off of the tile could be heard. The pair maintained their comfortable silence; each no doubt musing about their own personal thoughts and ideas relating to their new task. Much to Seongwoo’s chagrin, the contemplative silence broke at the hand of Sungwoon.

 

“You and your Master seem more comfortable around one another,” Sungwoon commented with a tiny smirk. Their steps echoed loudly in the lonely corridor. Seongwoo felt a strange jab of pressure in his chest. The older concubine had managed to instantly find a sore spot, whether he’d intended to or not. The younger started feeling self-conscious, paranoid that his and Daniel’s level of comfort was transparent to the outsider.

 

Ong replied, “Not as comfortable as you seem to be with yours.” He hoped to redirect the conversation.

 

“People seldom are,” Sungwoon shrugged, undeterred, “Then again, people seldom call the King by his first name, either.”

 

“What? Wh-what are you talking about?”

 

“You two speak rather casually. Almost intimately,” The older one sounded more amused than anything.

 

“I- Intimate?!” Seongwoo scrunched his nose, “You’re disgusting- delusional!”

 

“And you are disappointing me right now. I know you can lie better than that.”

 

“How can I possibly lie when I have no idea what- if anything- you are asking.”

 

“Fine, if you’d like me to pose the question, let me pose the question: how long have you and the King been speaking on first name terms?”

 

Seongwoo’s eyes blew open, “What relevance does such a question have to your day to day life?”

 

“Glad to see you’ve decided to stop denying it.”

 

“I am- You- You sound so accusatory.”

 

“And you flustered,” Sungwoon chuckled.

 

Ong rolled his eyes and groaned. Apparently, onlookers saw his lack of palpable hatred for his Master as an indicator that they were being “intimate”. He felt tempted to do something rash just to stop people from being irritatingly nosy.

 

“The arrangements of my relationship with my Master is no business of yours,” Seongwoo said flatly. 

 

“Fair enough,” Sungwoon shrugged as they turned a familiar corner, “I suppose I just like knowing things is all.”

 

“Can’t say that’s surprising,” Seongwoo said. The two stepped into the threshold of the library they frequented on the second floor. The older man grabbed one of the candles off of a sconce outside the door and began lighting up the room. He continued to speak as he did so.

 

“Seongwoo, please know this. While taunting you is great fun-”

 

“Is it? Is it really?”

 

“-Yes. That is not my point!” The older concubine chuckled, “My point is, as fun as it is to tease you, I do care about you, too.”

 

“I-” Seongwoo felt taken aback by the sudden sentiment, “I- know that. I guess. I mean, I would hope. If not, you are an excellent actor.”

 

“Trust me, Seongwoo. I have nothing to gain from pretending to like you,” Sungwoon stuck the candle he’d used in the room back in place where it had been. Two large candles illuminated the room adequately for the individuals.

 

“Why the sudden shift of tone?” Seongwoo asked, grabbing one of the candlesticks that had been lit. He started walking toward the shelves at the back of the room, in search of any relevant reading material.

 

“Because, my wanting to know things is more than being a busybody,” Sungwoon talked while doing the same as the younger man. “You and the King do genuinely appear to be… Growing closer.” Seongwoo ignored the small flip his heart did in his chest at the insinuation. The older man kept talking, “I… I want you to be happy, but… I- I suppose I'm concerned about you.”

 

“Why in particular, may I ask? Why now? You didn’t deliver speeches on how worried you were about me when I threw myself into bodily harm.”

 

“We thought that a life or death situation, and need I remind you, that was your idea. One I adamantly opposed. Yet I went through with it, you know why? Because I care. And this- this is different than bodily harm. The damage done can be much more profound.”

 

“What are you saying?” Seongwoo turned in the general direction of the other’s voice. He wasn’t sure where Sungwoon stood due to the tall stacks obscuring him, but at the very least he’d face him figuratively.

 

“I apologize, I am being a tad rambly,” Sungwoon paused, “I suppose I shall just reiterate this: I am here for you, Seongwoo. I cannot pretend I am the perfect person to confide in, but you need not carry your burdens alone.”

 

“May I tell you how I feel right now, then?” Seongwoo said, his temper wearing thin.

 

“Yes?”

 

“I feel like we ought to get our asses in gear on planning instead of talking about feelings. I also feel that people should stop being so presumptuous about others’ relationships or their private affairs in general,” The concubine huffed. He’d just about had it with everyone telling him how he felt. His mind shot back to the tent for a minute, remember what Daniel had said:

 

“Don’t think I don’t notice the effect I have on you, your body…”

 

Even his Master had made implications that he knew how Seongwoo felt better than the man himself. His stomach turned with annoyance.

 

Strangely enough, of all reactions, Sungwoon chuckled, “Very well then,” He said. “Thank you for sharing.” He sounded simply sprightly as if he hadn’t just been told to shove his talk of emotions up his ass. Somehow, that bothered Seongwoo even more. 

 

Luckily, the two spent the next half hour or so in silence. The only sounds to be heard in the dusty library were those of books bumping against one another. With as little verbal communication as possible, the two developed a system for organizing. They divided pulled texts into categories (floral texts, decorative catalogs, accounts of other Festivals…). The categorized books were then organized into three categories based on relevance, from most to least. 

 

Once a series of tall stacks had been piled up, the two sat down to start skimming them and making notes. When their conversation resumed, it pertained only to the task in front of them. They chattered about flowers and different entertainments and dances late into the night. They scribbled notes and inquiries for the next day’s meeting before parting for a good night’s rest

 

* * *

 

Sungwoon returned to his room with a few books tucked beneath his arm. He rubbed his eyes, eagerly awaiting peace, quiet, and his bed. Unfortunately, upon opening the door to his bedchamber, he saw something blocking him from those things. More specifically: someone.

 

The concubine pursed his lips in displeasure, “Jisung, why are you still awake?”

 

“I couldn’t sleep,” The King’s advisor answered frankly. A small frown had spread across his lips.

 

“Well, I can, and I would like to. In my bed, tonight, if it’s all the same to you.”

 

“Oh, we can-”

 

“Alone,” Sungwoon interjected callously. 

 

“You’re mad about earlier, aren’t you?”

 

“Does it matter at this hour? It is so late, I reckon I could be mad at anything.”

 

“I knew you’d still be mad,” Jisung said spitefully.

 

Sungwoon scowled at the other man, “Yet here you are. Why? Did you wish to rile me? Or perhaps you would like to make me feel like an incompetent idiot again.”

 

“Wh- Sungwoon? You know I did not act the way I did because I doubted your capabilities. You are the most strong, intelligent person I know.”

 

“Then what is it?”

 

“Please, as if you don’t know,” Jisung crossed his arms.

 

“Tell me: what is it?” Sungwoon demanded.

 

“Sungwoon-”

 

“Say it, Jisung. Say it!”

 

“You want to hear it?” Jisung’s voice started low, “You want to hear why I felt uncertain about passing on the role of planning to you? Because you’re a goddamn concubine, Sungwoon!” His voice raised to a shout.

 

“There it is,” Sungwoon replied bitterly, “The truth.”

 

“Oh, spare me,” Jisung rolled his eyes.

 

“Just admit that you see me as below you.”

 

“You know that is not true. You have an inferiority complex is what it is.”

 

“Really? And how am I supposed to figure that when you openly regard me with condescension?”

 

“Don’t play ignorant. You know as well as I, we cannot be seen being genuine.”

 

“Right. God forbid your reputation be stained by a lowly concubine such as myself.” Sungwoon spoke through gritted teeth.

 

“Stop it!” Jisung’s shout echoed loudly in Sungwoon’s small room, silencing even the concubine’s uprising protests, “Just… Stop it. I hate fighting with you like this,” Jisung’s stern tone faltered slightly, “You know why I felt hesitant about you heading Festival planning? Why my gut wrenches with anxiety every time you work on even the simplest of errands? Because I see how people look at you, Sungwoon. Not me. You.” 

 

Tears welled up in the advisor’s eyes; he averted his gaze from the other, trying to blink them away, “I don’t know if you don’t notice or- or if you do and don’t care. You’re not ignorant, I’m sure you see it. How people look down their nose at you. How they regard you with- with disdain and scorn. Why? Because of some strip of leather wrapped around your neck. You may be able to tolerate it, but I can’t. I fucking. Can’t.” Jisung finally gathered the courage to look his concubine in the eye again. Sungwoon’s lips remained firmly pressed into a line. He swallowed a lump in his throat, and his eyes looked wet, too.

 

“That’s- that’s a stupid reason to oppose me taking on responsibilities,” The concubine protested feebly. 

 

“Perhaps it is, but… It is the truth.”

 

“You ought to stop worrying. I’ve received many a dirty look in my time. I have long stopped cari-”

 

“No,” Jisung shook his head, “No. I will not stop worrying. I will not stop feeling sick every time I see someone give you a nasty look or whisper something rude about you. I am sorry, Sungwoon. I just want to protect you, but I understand that… That is not the right way of doing it.” Sungwoon sunk onto the edge of his bed unceremoniously. He laughed humorlessly.

 

“And so we end up here again. I feel like we have had this argument countless times.”

 

“We are quite familiar with this song and dance, aren’t we,” Jisung joined the other on the edge of the mattress. Sungwoon looked up at Jisung. His eyes traced the features that they’d traced hundreds, perhaps thousands of times. He’d yet to grow bored of them.

 

“Do you think we will be doing this forever?” He asked weakly.

 

Jisung bit his lower lip as he thought it through; after a few moments, he asked, “If I said yes, would you still be here?” He looked anxious.

 

Sungwoon wiped a tear away before answering, “I think…” He nodded, “Yes. But, only if you remained by my side.” The advisor’s hand moved to the concubine’s thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. He gave the other a weak smile.

 

“So it will be,” Jisung said, planting a kiss on Sungwoon’s head with a sigh.

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo lumbered into his bedchambers tiredly. He shut the door behind him quietly, tiptoeing across the room to get ready for bed. The concubine kicked off his boots and stripped, throwing a clean sleeping shirt over his neck. He felt tempted to literally throw his body onto his bed, but something bothered him. 

 

The crack of light coming through the partition in his room looked exceptionally bright. He paced toward it quietly and pressed his eye to the sliver of an opening. He saw nothing necessarily out of the ordinary. His highness’s floor appeared as polished as ever, his walls still opulently painted and the furnishings visible fine. He did not hear anything, which meant his highness had probably fallen asleep.

 

The concubine rolled his eyes. It seemed characteristic of Daniel to be the type to pass out before blowing out all of the candles. Though he had no reason to think any accidents would happen, Seongwoo did not feel safe knowing half the man’s candles were still ablaze. He’d nearly been killed by bandits; he certainly did not want to meet his end in a fiery blaze caused by carelessness.

 

Trying to be as silent as possible, the concubine stepped in. He slowly began blowing out nearby candles, carefully scanning the room. He hit a few sconces and a candelabra without so much as disturbing the cats. However, his eyes drifted to the bed. He’d expected to see the King’s unconscious form shifting about as it so often did.

 

Seongwoo quirked an eyebrow at the sight he’d been met with in contrast. His highness sat on his bed, already undressed to sleep. However, instead, he held a book in his hands. It would not have stricken Seongwoo as odd had the man been lost in the book; it had happened to him often. What struck Seongwoo as strange was the fact that the man appeared not to be reading at all. He merely stared in the general direction of the book. Upon further discernation, the concubine made out rather dark circles beneath the man’s eyes. The tips of his lips turned downward ever so slightly, and he held the book rather limply. The concubine wondered: how long had the King been staring at that book. He inferred that the man had been on the same page for quite some time.

 

Suddenly, awareness dawned on the King. He blinked and turned toward the threshold of his room and the concubine’s. He raised his eyebrows.

 

“O-oh, Seongwoo,” He said in a quiet voice, “I apologize. I understand it’s quite late. Did the light from my room disturb you?”

 

Seongwoo slowly took a few steps further in; he shook his head, “No, not at all. Sungwoon and I burned the night oil discussing plans. I’d just returned.”

 

“Ah,” Daniel nods. His eyes droop slightly as if begging the man to go to sleep, “I see. Well, i-if my light distracts you, you are free to shut the door.”

 

“Well,” Seongwoo tilted his head inquisitively, “It is quite late. I am a concubine and my schedule is much less fixed than yours. May I ask what you are doing up so late?”

 

Daniel looked taken aback by the question and took a few seconds to answer, “I- I had something urgent to look over.”

 

“Did you?” Seongwoo felt inclined to investigate. He strode over to Daniel’s bedside, leaning over to see what “urgent” reading had been grasped in the King’s hands. Daniel drew back, holding the book away and giving Seongwoo a wide-eyed stare. Unfortunately for the King, his concubine had seen what he needed to.

 

“You’ve an urgent need to read a tragic play at this hour? I find that hard to believe.”

 

“Wh-” Daniel looked as if he was about to protest, but his tone shifted, “Wait, this is a tragedy?!” He turned the book over to inspect the cover again, “B-but I swore this was- it is a romance-”

 

“Oh, I- I am so sorry I may have just revealed a bit more than you’ve read.”

 

“So you’ve read this one?” The King asked wryly. Seongwoo bit his lower lip nervously and nodded. Daniel heaved a heavy sigh, falling back onto his heap of pillows with a groan. He tossed the book aside dejectedly and wrung his hands down his face.   
  


“Oh- no, no I assure you it’s a wonderful read regardless!” Seongwoo assured the man, “I- An unhappy ending does not invalidate the beautiful, heart-wrenching journey that got them there, right?”

 

“I ought to just read the ending first,” Daniel replied. He sounded bitter, and Seongwoo did not need to think hard to surmise that the King wasn’t truly upset about a book. Given the circumstances, he began to put together a more vivid picture.

 

“And why is that?” Seongwoo asked in a more soft voice.

 

The King sat up, a small frown across his lips, “I have witnessed enough tragedy in my own life. The last thing I desire is to spend my spare time  _ reading  _ about it.” Seongwoo conceded that the man had a sound reasoning. The concubine’s definition of escape was rooted in a more physical, mortal sense, but he knew for the King, that kind of escape did not present itself as an option. Between the covers of a book, that was a means of escape Daniel could attain.

 

“Yet to be reading at this hour? The sun will be up in a few hours.”

 

“Yes, well,” Daniel eyed Seongwoo apprehensively. He hesitated, but continued to speak, “I cannot sleep.” He admitted.

 

The concubine nodded knowingly, “That, I will believe.” His expression faltered slightly. He liked being right, but Daniel being so sleep deprived troubled him. He knew it wasn’t personal, merely his care instincts kicking in as they did. Not even the walls of Castle Jeon could suppress that for long. Without conscious thought, Seongwoo offered,“Does tea help you sleep? Or perhaps wine-”

 

“I’ve drank myself unconscious nearly every night for the past week. I can’t tolerate it any longer, and… It’s stopped working,” Daniel responded with a gravelly voice. He visibly swallowed his bitterness. Seongwoo stood silently in shock for a few moments. Concern seeped through his calm visage, staining his features. His lips parted with the intent of giving a response, but nothing came out. He tried again, but whatever jumble of conciliatory words had wanted to free themselves remained confined.

 

The King ran a hand through his hair roughly, shaking his head and facing the other, “I-I’m sorry. That was callous of me, you were merely asking-”

 

“It’s alright,” Seongwoo cut him off. He perched on the edge of Daniel’s bed, eyeing the other with worry. Anxiety rattled inside his chest, but he pressed on, quietly asking, “It’s… It’s the nightmares, isn’t it?” Daniel’s pupils dashed away. His fingers fidgeted with the sheets as he answered.

 

“I’m sorry,” He said, “Have you…” His words were strained, “Heard anything?” The King couldn’t even meet his concubine’s eyes. Seongwoo shook his head despite the fact that the other couldn’t see. He slid slightly more inward on the massive, ornate bed.

 

“I haven’t heard anything, you needn’t worry,” The concubine said reassuringly. Daniel’s shoulders relaxed slightly, releasing tension that Ong hadn’t realized had been present. “I just… Have struggled to sleep, too.” He felt light after finally confessing. Just acknowledging that he’d been tormented by lucid visions of terror felt like progress toward their elimination. Daniel’s eyes darted to Seongwoo and his mouth dropped open. His brows knitted together into a troubled expression.

 

“Y-you, too?” Daniel spoke in a voice nearly quiet enough to be a whisper, “You’re having…”

 

“Nightmares,” Seongwoo finished the thought. Daniel moved hesitantly across the large mattress, closer to Seongwoo. 

 

The King watched his concubine carefully, as if he was approaching a wounded animal. Seongwoo felt painfully aware of his growing proximity. Daniel gave off an unseeable fire of sorts; he grew nearer and Seongwoo felt warmer. The concubine felt painful pressure press on his heart when he saw the other’s eyes, so he avoided them. Instead, his gaze meandered to other parts of the bed: the dark wooden frame, the jostled linens, the heaped cushions. He glanced at the spot where Daniel’s torso met his hips, the slight inward curve of his waist. The bevels of his abdominals stacked atop one another, inviting exploration with more than just a glance.

 

A tickle on the concubine’s hand roused him from his mind’s unholy wanderings. His pupils jumped to his hand, seeing that Daniel’s hand had just barely brushed his. The concubine had nearly let out a gasp but snatched it out of his throat before it dared leave his lips. Warmth washed over him. 

 

Daniel sat as he had before, upright with his hands to his sides, slightly supporting his weight. However, one hand had ventured just a titch beyond where it would naturally fall. The King’s pinky nudged Seongwoo’s. The concubine didn’t know what to make of it. Had it been a simple mistake? A gesture of support or condolence?

 

“Seongwoo,” Daniel broke the heavy silence that had fallen between them, “I… I...” Words stood at the edge of his lips, but they recoiled before dropping out of them. The King changed pace, hastily spitting out something that had clearly not been what he truly felt, “I should try to sleep.”

 

Seongwoo sulked, “Have you not spent the entire night avoiding just that?”

 

“And in doing so I have robbed you of rest and time. I will be alright, you ought to-”

 

“You have not robbed me of rest!” Seongwoo cut him off, fury flaring up in his chest,“I have accused you of no such thing, don’t you dare make such instances on my behalf. I will tell you damn well what you have and haven’t robbed me of. And- Unless it is a life or death command, I will do what _ I _ feel I ought to, when I feel I should.” Daniel’s eyes widened and he looked at the concubine with surprise. “I- Oh,” Shame smacked the concubine across the face, leaving its red impression on the apples of his cheeks. “I apologize, I- I need rest myself, apparently.”

 

Daniel shook his head, “You needn’t apologize. I believe we both need sleep.” He laughed wryly, “Quite the sad pair we are, aren’t we?”

 

“Sad indeed,” Seongwoo concurred with a chuckle of his own. “We have cheated death, haven’t we? Yet sleep proves a challenge. Something literal infants excel at.” Daniel snorted, and Seongwoo felt a jolt of happiness trickle through his veins. An expression of genuine joy presented a welcome change to the generalized grief the two had lived in for the past weeks.

 

“Perhaps we should find an infant and ask them their secret,” Daniel joked. A smile cracked across Seongwoo’s previously grim expression.

 

“I imagine they would have great insight. Or we could ask Lords Peter and Rooney- or, I suppose they are Ladies Peter and Rooney.”

 

“They are experts.”

 

“We could learn a thing or two from them,” Seongwoo grinned slightly, “Now, from observation-” Daniel’s lips warped slightly, as Ong went on, “They seem to like curling up quite a bit.” On a mischievous impulse, Seongwoo flopped onto the bed. The feathered mattress dipped beneath him with a soft “pwomf” sound. On his side, Ong brought his knees close to his chest and stuck his arms out in front of himself, minding not to touch the other. “Like this?” A smile spread across Daniel’s lips. He scrunched his nose and his shoulders shook with laughter. Knowing that his antics had yielded a positive reaction satisfied Seongwoo immensely.

 

“Is this- is this right?” Seongwoo asked, provoking more laughs.

 

“Hm,” Daniel looked down at the man laying on his bed fondly. He pretended to appear scrutinizing, appraising the other’s cat form. “It is not a terrible replication.”

 

“Not terrible?” Seongwoo tried to sound dramatically agasp, “This is  _ very  _ advanced cat posturing and I feel that my reception is rather critical.”

 

“I happen to be quite learned on the subject. It will take more than your average curl to impress me.”

 

“Really? Am I to believe you are an expert then?”

 

“Well- Those are your words, not mine.”

 

“Oh? If you are such expert then, show me.”

 

“I-” Daniel guffawed, “Are you sure you can handle it?”

 

“Are you sure you are truly a better cat than I?”

 

“Prepare yourself for humiliation,” Daniel smirked. He laid down on his side opposite Seongwoo so he could face the other. Much like the concubine had done, he curled his legs so his knees met his torso. Unlike Seongwoo, instead of sticking his arms out flexed his toward himself, curling his wrists and closing his fists to emulate paws. 

 

It occurred to Seongwoo that he had just invited Daniel to lay down next to him and that the man had done so, rather closely. Their faces were less than a ruler’s length away from one another. In the flickering candlelight, Seongwoo made out the tiny features he hadn’t paid much attention to prior. There were perforations on his ears for earrings; he’d never noticed the man wearing any adornments before. His cheeks looked fairly squishy, and from close up he could make out tiny flecks of discoloration on the other’s skin. The man had no jarring flaws, but seeing him so closely, neither on the brink of death nor atop his throne, made him seem infinitely more human than he’d seemed before. Most distinct was the tiny birthmark dotting the King’s face, just beneath his right eye. Thinking truthfully to himself, Seongwoo found it quite becoming.

 

The concubine’s stomach lurched and swam with the proximity, but he did not cower. Weeks prior, he would not have dared engage in such foolishness in the other’s presence. He would never have thought the other would engage with him, yet here they were. The two had spent days cooped up in a shed of a place with only one another for warmth. They’d seen each other in states of excessive squalr, and lived to tell the tale. Coming out of it, Seongwoo genuinely felt beyond his previous reservations. Being near the other didn’t scare him nearly as much. He could even yield the smallest sliver to his emotions and admit: he enjoyed the other. A tiny bit. Most of “enjoyment” was probably delirium due to lack of sleep; or so the concubine told himself.

 

“You’re speechless,” Daniel declared triumphantly. “I told you: I am an expert.”

 

“My mistake,” Seongwoo quickly recovered, “I underestimated you.”

 

“Meow,” Daniel tittered. Ong started to think that the other had grown more unhinged than he had.

 

“Wh- Oh, apologies. For a moment I thought I was laying in front of a real cat. I admit defeat.”

 

“I showed you a mere sampling just now. Perhaps one day I can show you more intermediate techniques.”

 

“Intermediate?!” Seongwoo laughed. He felt like a sparkling wine, like hundreds of tiny feelings were fizzing inside of him. He tried to identify them, but each fleeting bubble popped in an instant, leaving a trace of an something he couldn’t pinpoint.

 

“I could show you how to properly knock things over, or lay in the sun.”

 

“I scarcely think I can keep up!”

 

“You are sharp, I believe you can catch on quick.”

 

“Maybe so,” Seongwoo yawned. His eyes had started to feel heavy, and keeping them open proved more and more difficult. “However, I do not think I’ll be doing anything quickly right now.”

 

“That is more than understandable.”

 

Seongwoo nodded in affirmation. His eyelids dropped, and he nearly dozed off right then and there. He stubbornly picked them back up, met with the sight of Daniel in a condition much like his. The two fought unconsciousness together beneath the veil of a comfortable silence. After his third time of nodding off, the concubine groaned.

 

“I need to go to bed,” He slurred sleepily.

 

“Do you want to?” Daniel asked, his voice husky with sleep as well.

 

“Of course not. I do not want to move.”

 

The King gazed at the other warmly; he looked the concubine up and down before saying, “Then don’t.”

 

Seongwoo’s heart ceased for a moment. The statement woke him up considerably, “I- I need to. I’m- I'm not going to-”

 

“I know, and you won’t,” Daniel completed his sentence before he even told the other what he’d been thinking. The ruler hoisted himself up and slowly moved to the edge of the bed. Seongwoo barely managed to rouse himself to move his head and watch. He quirked a confused eyebrow. His highness slid off the mattress unceremoniously, lazily stretching his body out. The concubine’s eyes blew open in utter puzzlement (and shock, seeing the man’s full body in nothing but scanty braies). 

 

Daniel turned his head over his shoulder to speak to the other, “I’ll sleep in your bed tonight.” Ong started up, only to be cut off. “I am already up. It’s too late.” Seongwoo closed his mouth, his lips forming a slight pout. Sleepily, he watched the ruler blow out the candles on his large candelabra one by one. The room grew darker with each flame eliminated until only the popping fireplace provided light to the space. 

 

“Good night, Seongwoo,” Daniel said before disappearing through the threshold between their rooms. Seongwoo’s eyes remained fix on the doorway for a few minutes and his mouth hung agape. He lay in complete bewilderment.

 

The man had just given up his bed for the night because he knew the other would not want to share it. The King could have easily demanded the other return to his room or stubbornly remained in bed until the other felt forced to leave. He did neither of those things. For a second, Seongwoo wondered if Daniel had not wanted to sleep with him. It seemed preposterous, given how forthright the King had been.

 

Abruptly, Seongwoo shook the idea from his head, ashamed of even entertaining thoughts regarding Daniel desiring him. The two were no longer desperately grasping at one another in a god forsaken cabin. They were back at Castle Jeon, back to reality. Surely the things the two had said to one another could be tossed aside. The two had been a few swigs of rum away from death, hungry, and terrified. The concubine thought it silly to consider what had been said then valid. Aside from their wager, he saw no need to ever reflect on what had been said in detail.

 

In a fatigued jumble of thoughts, ideas, and emotions, Seongwoo could hardly stand thinking much longer. He commanded to himself: accept the generosity. And so he did. Throwing the blankets over his bed, the concubine’s eyes had hardly shut before he passed out. A single fleeting thing registered in his mind before he drifted off; the blankets and linen smelled of him.

 

He slept through the remainder of the night.


	22. Names and names and names

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 22 WARNING(s): explicit descriptions

Clouds cast a veil of gray upon everything beneath the morning sky. Rivulets of fog lazily floated on the surface of the glassy pool in front of Castle Jeon’s grand entrance. Frigid winds blew across the land, urging those outside to hug their cloaks closer to their bodies. In front of the entrance stood a King, a General, and an Advisor. The trio watched the small form in the distance take shape: a lonely carriage. 

 

The opulent coach grew closer and closer until it finally came to a stop. Hopping off of his perch, the coachman dashed to open the door for the man inside. The three nobles waiting had already known who was due to arrive. While none among them felt particularly inclined to give an enthusiastic welcome, courtesy dictated that they welcomed him nonetheless.

 

Slender and comely as always, Duke Hwang Minhyun stepped out of his coach, a dark cloak wrapped around him. His concubine followed at his tail, and the two of them approached their modest welcoming party.

 

“Duke Hwang,” King Daniel regarded the man with a polite nod. The Duke and his concubine bowed respectfully. 

 

“Your majesty,” The Duke said with a nod. He then moved on to greet the person beside his ruler, “General Park.”

 

“Good morning, Duke,” Jihoon said. “I trust your travels went smoothly.” The General noted that the man looked even more ailing than he had when he’d previously seen him. 

 

When he’d rushed the King to the villa, he’d only briefly conversed with the man. After finding Daniel, the majority of their time had been spent ensuring the King’s safety. Travel arrangements had been made in haste, and aside from discussing relevant information with the Duke, General Park had hardly associated with him. It had been a long time since the two had had a conversation with content running deeper than court niceties.

 

Jihoon thought it strange that the man appeared even worse than he had prior. He’d only just heard the previous night that the Duke had planned on returning to court. If anything, the General would have thought that the Duke would have looked well. Even the King had made considerable progress in healing. In contrast, Minhyun looked like a ghost. His skin looked like paper save for the circles beneath his eyes. His cheeks had sunken in as if he ate peasant portions for his meals. Not even his lips had taken on any sort of color. 

 

“Yes,” Minhyun smiled politely, “And Advisor,” He gave the other a nod. Jisung politely greeted the man back.

 

“It is quite a surprise to see you back so soon,” King Daniel said. He began walking toward the Castle’s doors, and the others followed. “May I ask why you have returned to us so soon? Until receiving your message last night, I had thought you'd gone back to the duchy.”

 

“I remained at the villa for awhile longer. I wanted to assure that things there were secure and in order,” Minhyun replied to the King as the four entered the warmth of the castle, “As for my returning… In truth, I feel that the Castle is more safe than my properties at the moment.” 

 

Daniel frowned, “You feel unsafe? We can meet regarding support for your men if that is the case. You ought not be away for long.” The General couldn’t help quirking an eyebrow at the King’s statement. Jihoon could easily see past the veneer of consideration; Daniel wanted the Duke gone. Even with how politely the sentiment had been delivered, it seemed awfully uncharacteristic for the King to be so direct.

 

“I- I am not sure that will be necessary,” Duke Hwang said, “I do not wish to take advantage of your generosity.”

 

“It is not generosity if both parties gain something. It’s not as if I can lend you men for free, but I am sure arrangements could be made if necessary.”

 

“Of course, your highness,” Duke Hwang’s expression subtly tensed. “I did not mean to imply anything, my apologies.” He tried to redirect the conversation quickly, “I am glad to see you are well, King.”

 

“Thank you. And I you, Duke.”

 

“My thanks. I am grateful that I happened to be blessed by the mercy of God. Oh- and, your ward. He is doing alright as well?”

 

Daniel stopped walking, and the other three abruptly halted too. The King turned his head to the side to give the Duke a scrutinizing look. The General instinctively searched his vocabulary for words to diffuse the situation. He could tell that Seongwoo’s brush-in with Duke Hwang remained a touchy subject. Surely, Jihoon thought, the Duke knew this. Did he bring Seongwoo up to rile his highness? To knock him down slightly after he made his rather callous response regarding generosity? The General had no intention of tolerating any such disdain for his King. A faint flame of annoyance flickered in his chest, and he opened his mouth to stand up for Daniel.

 

“Seongwoo is safe. Assure you keep your hands to yourself, and you will remain the same,“ His face remained cold, but a faint chill encapsulated his words.

 

The Duke’s eyes went wide for an instant, but he quickly reverted to his typical expression of stately neutrality. Advisor Yoon made no such effort to maintain an appearance of any sort, and his eyes went wide in astonishment. General Park bit his tongue. He tried not to betray how shocked he felt upon hearing the man’s words.

 

“Wh- Wh- excuse me?,” Minhyun finally stuttered out after the surprise had passed. He looked half galled, half terrified.

 

“While I did try punishing him, I cannot control him,” Daniel gave a laugh, giving Minhyun a slap on the back. Though the slap likely had the intention of appearing friendly, it caused the Duke’s slender body to jolt forward. “I jest, of course. He would not dream of punching you in the face again, surely. After all, you will give him no cause to do so. Right?”

  
  


“R-right,” Minhyun nodded. He swallowed hard, and his pupils danced around the room, ”Forgive me, but, I must excuse myself. I wish to get settled in.”

 

“Splendid idea, Duke,” Daniel said. He gave the man an excessively dulcet smile, watching happily as he left their presence. The trio continued walking toward one of the war rooms in silence until, finally, Jihoon broke the silence.

 

“That was quite blunt of you, your highness. Are you feeling unwell?” He blurted out. His lips pressed shut, and he immediately regretted his words. Who was he, of all people, to question the King? King Daniel pursed his lips at Jihoon which made the General squirm internally.

 

“Actually I feel relieved,” The King said with a shrug, “I suppose I’d have rather told him I’d allow Seongwoo to shove his fist up his ass if he touched him again, but… I digress.”

 

“Oh my god,” Jisung commented in awe. He let out a laugh, “Who’s died and replaced our King Daniel? About time you put him in his place.”

 

“Your highness, I am glad that you are demanding respect, but- but perhaps you may have scared the Duke a bit. He seemed to be in a rather delicate state. I was going to say something to him myself, anyways.”

 

“I don’t care,” Daniel replied frankly. “He needs to know his place, and he needs to hear it from me.”

 

“He could have perhaps heard it delivered more kindly,” The General tried to suggest. He bit his lower lip nervously. Though the two spoke civilly, even the slightest inkling of an argument or conflict between him and Daniel put him on edge.

 

“Jihoon,” Daniel’s tone softened (much to the other’s relief), “I greatly appreciate your concern. Truly, I do, but… I have learned something from my experience at his villa. No matter how kind I am- no matter how kind I try to be- someone is going to want my head. I am through trying to please everyone and do absolutely everything. I cannot live like that it- it eats away at me. And for what?” His highness shook his head, “I am through bending to the will of the court and allowing them to drag my name to their content. I am going to demand esteem. In doing so, I will stand up not only for myself, but my nation. People may not like this Kingdom, but they will respect it.” He finished resolutely. With that, the King was done speaking on the matter. He set his gaze forward and began walking toward the war room again. The other two scrambled to catch up with his pace.

 

“How you have grown,” Jihoon said after him. He didn’t know what else to say. All he could do was watch on as the man walked with his head held high.

 

It so greatly bewildered the General, he could not think of any better way to react. Daniel was kind and gracious, giving, generous, and caring. The man had always worn a smile and tried to accommodate even the most ornery members of nobility. What Jihoon adored most was that, no matter what, Daniel had always believed in the good in others.

 

The General had lost faith in humanity years ago. 

 

No matter how hard Jihoon tried, reacclimating himself to a peaceful life had only grown increasingly difficult. He grew progressively more jaded each time he’d returned to court life. His disenchantment made him feel like an imposter. The young man asked himself: am I General Park or Park Jihoon? He felt like an actor playing a civilian; he’d put on a cute smile and charm courtiers as if nothing had happened. He couldn’t tell anyone about what he had experienced. Nobles loved reaping the benefits of war, but they sure as hell did not want to hear about it. They would happily bid for the new plots of land that had been acquired while knowing nothing about the blood that stained the soil. It made Jihoon ill. Selfish pricks in pretty clothes brought the General no joy or purpose for life.

 

But Daniel?

 

When he would return from training camp, and later, tours, he would bask in Daniel’s innocent joy. Seeing how the other enjoyed such a simple life, how graciously he treated others, it fulfilled Jihoon in a way. Daniel lived honestly and gave his everything to what he did. As a student, a young Duke, and a King, he gave every last shred of his soul. The man worked himself to starvation and exhaustion for the smallest of gains; all for the betterment of the Kingdom. Jihoon would return from his voyages to a life he didn’t quite believe belonged to him anymore. Kang Daniel gave the General something worth protecting; he made the General want to return to Castle Jeon.

 

At least, he used to.

 

Jihoon swallowed a lump in his throat as he trailed behind King Daniel. 

 

The bastion of innocence that he’d so valiantly fought for had greatly diminished. Daniel’s smiles seldom shone as brightly as the had in the past. His entire face used to scrunch, and his eyes would disappear into mere slivers. Now, the majority of the smiles he’d seen from the King were cold, formal gestures of courtesy. Daniel’s full cheeks had shaped into something more defined, and his shoulders had grown even wider. Jihoon couldn’t remember the last time he’d caught Daniel humming or dancing in secret, things he loved to do. If anything, General Park would stumble upon the other passed out on top of important documents or letters.

 

He’d changed.

 

It felt sudden, or, at least, Jihoon had wished it had. However, the young man saw no reason to deceive himself any longer. He’d been by Daniel’s side for the majority of his life. He had witnessed the other’s growth. He realized that, perhaps, the Daniel he so fiercely fought to protect was not the Daniel in front of him. It probably hadn’t been for a long time, but he’d willed himself not to believe it.

 

“Jihoon?” The King’s voice roused Jihoon from his reflections.

 

“Wh-what? I apologize, your highness, I hadn’t quite heard what you said.”

 

“No need to apologize,” Daniel said warmly, in stark contrast to his regard for the Duke. He gave Jihoon a smile, “I suggested that we have a servant bring us some tea and bread to the war room. I am dragging a bit this morning.”

 

“Still trouble sleeping?” The Advisor asked.

 

“I slept a bit better last night, but, unfortunately yes.”

 

“That is unfortunate. Is it the pain from your wounds? You ought to consult the doctors again-”

 

Daniel stuck his hand up, “No need to fuss, really. But-” He turned to Jihoon again, “Does that sound alright?”

 

“Yes, it sounds fine, your highness,” Jihoon nodded. He gave a smile, and the trio walked onward. Though melancholy made Jihoon’s chest clench, he tried to feel optimistic.

 

If he were to leave on tour and never return, he thought, Daniel would be okay.

 

* * *

 

Smooth and grosgrain ribbons draped across the tables of the northwest library. Vivid hues tangled with subdued pastels and rich jewel tones in a messy assortment of silken color. A few books lay sprawled out interspersed with the mess. Blotches of sun coming from the windows painted bright blocks of light in the study. 

 

On one of the tables sat the youngest among the three there, Guanlin. He’d managed to clear off a small portion of one of the tables for studying. In the midst of the satiny chaos that had thrown the library into a state of disarray, he studied diligently. The two older concubines were busy considering the spread before them.

 

“I still favor the sage green,” Sungwoon said. He and Seongwoo stood beside one of the tables their ribbon selection taken over. The two had left their meeting with his highness and the advisor feeling fairly confident. Just that morning, the two had thought picking colors for the festival would be a menial task; however, as the sun gradually climbed in the sky, the two realized how wrong they were.

 

“And I still think it will read redundant among all the greens in the garden.” 

 

“Well we are not doing the robin’s egg blue.”

 

Seongwoo shrugged, “Eh- It’s still on the table.”

 

“No it is not.”

 

“I think so.”

 

“This is a festival, we need a color palette that is impactful, uplifting-”

 

“What about sage green communicates either of those messages?!”

 

“Green is the color of life, of abundance. That is precisely what we want to celebrate.”

 

“That still does not tell my why you insist on using the most dull tone of green I can think of.”

 

“It is subdued and stately,” Sungwoon said, crossing his arms stubbronly.

 

“This event opens the castle to the public, doesn’t it? The grounds will be crawling with commoners. How stately can it be?”

 

“Weren’t you a commoner?”

 

“Wh- Yes. I speak from experience.”

 

“Oh, that reminds me, this is quite tangential, but that promising young tenor I told you about?”

 

“The singer?”

 

“Yes, my messenger got back to me and he said he would perform! He can accompany himself, too. I have heard wonderful things about him!”

 

“Oh!” Seongwoo clapped. Finally, he thought, some good news. “Some progress on one front, at least. Now, as for our colors this year… Is there any way we can put that decision off? I feel as if we are getting stuck at this impasse.”

 

“Well,” Sungwoon stroked his chin, “The colors only provide the foundation for all supplemental decor as well as floral arrangements for the entire festival, so…” His thoughtful expression fell into one of annoyance, “No.”

 

“I imagine it is a faux pas to see what was used last year and replicate that.”

 

“That would be savage. You may as well hang large banners with depictions of our King defecating as well.”

 

“I-” Seongwoo snorted, “Are we allowed to do that?” He narrowly dodged the book that had come flying his way. “What?! Even if we do not copy last year’s colors, or those of the year prior, I think it would be helpful to find chronicles of previous festivals. Something more concrete, to see what’s been done, what we can do.”

 

“Well what we can do changes by the year depending on how the harvests are, however we are doing quite well fiscally. We have a lot of resources at our disposal! Regardless- It is not as if Castle Jeon’s own Harvest Festival has books written about it.”

 

“What about… Ladies’ magazines? Or- or even accounts, old ledgers documenting what had been bought.”

 

“We would need to request access to the ledgers, but I could certainly give them a look should we be able to see them.”

 

“I believe my Master could help with that. He is the King.”

 

“Excellent, you can ask him!” Sungwoon’s tone sounded much more chipper.

 

“I- Wait, excuse me?”

 

“The ledgers, of course… That is a splendid idea, Seongwoo,” The older concubine began tidying up one of the tables. He shut the book he’d had ajar and began wrapping some of the ribbons around his hand into compact, round bundles.

 

“Where are you going?” Seongwoo’s eyes widened and he threw his hands up.

 

“I need to assure that our singer’s accommodations are set! He’s due to arrive tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow?!” Ong’s jaw drapped.

 

“Yes, you have excellent hearing. Let me know what your Master says!” Sungwoon is already halfway out the door as he waves goodbye to the other two, leaving most of the ribbon mess untouched.

 

“Wh- I thought we would go together!” Seongwoo yelled after the other’s disappearing form. He groaned, lamenting how surprisingly fast the man’s short legs moved. The concubine frowned, crossing his arms. He glanced at the mess of ribbons the two of them had wrought upon the library. Sungwoon had managed to convince Jisung’s atelier to lend them ribbons to aid their endeavors. Unfortunately, the effort had been fruitless. Ong groaned. He plopped down onto the nearest chair, wringing his hand through his hair.

 

“Is Sungwoon gone?” The chick’s voice sounded out. Seongwoo’s eyebrows raised, and he sat up to regard the other more directly. Guanlin had been quietly studying during the entirety of their tyrades, save for a few small interjections and laughs at their expense.

 

“Yes. He’s off to arrange travel or accommodations or something of the sort,” Seongwoo mumbled. 

 

He pursed his lips as he thought of ways to put off his task of approaching the King. It wasn’t as if he feared Daniel. On the contrary, the more he’d gotten to know the man, the less of a threat he realized the other posed. Despite his cool, regal exterior, the man had rather childish quirks. By no means did Seongwoo discount the threat of the institution built around the man, but the man himself was a trifle to deal with. 

 

“Seongwoo…” Guanlin spoke quietly as he looked up from the text he’d been copying. He bit his lip nervously, “Can you keep a secret?”

 

Ong’s eyes darted to the young concubine. Guanlin with a secret? He wondered what the young boy could possibly consider necessary to hide. The older quirked an eyebrow.

 

“I absolutely can,” Seongwoo said.

 

“Even from,” Guanlin hushed his voice further, “Sungwoon?” He swallowed nervously.

 

Seongwoo slowly approached Guanlin’s side, sweeping a few of the ribbons off the table at the seat next to the chick. He sat down, leaning in close, and inspected the young boy. Guanlin didn’t have a nefarious bone in his body; he couldn’t have. Seongwoo knew Sungwoon could be a bit trying to deal with upon occasion, but he was by no means untrustworthy. Not to mention: Guanlin had known Sungwoon for much longer. Ong wondered what made the other hesitate to confide in the older man.

 

“I promise,” Seongwoo looked the other in the eye and stuck his pinky out, “That I will keep whatever secret you tell me, Guanlin. Whatever you say to me in confidence will remain concealed until the day I die.” Guanlin eyed the extended pinky for a few moments before hooking his own around it. He looked up at the man he considered as an older brother and nodded.

 

“Alright, then,” He said. A grin teased at the ends of his lips, “Let’s clean up. Then, I’ve got something to show you.” He smiled. Seongwoo drew back slightly in surprise. He wondered what the hell the other could possibly show him that had necessitated such secrecy. “Wait!”

 

“What? What is it?” Guanlin asked.

 

“We ought to clean up this mess, don’t you think?” Seongwoo pointedly eyed the colorful dilapidation they’d brought upon the space.

 

* * *

 

“Haven’t we passed this sculpture three times?” Seongwoo asked, eyeing the corridor they walked. It looked no different than it had the first two times they’d walked through it. Same finicky wallpaper, same ornate crown moulding, and the same sculptures lining the opulently decorated walls.

 

“Yes, we have,” Guanlin replied, looking over his shoulder. Seongwoo looked as well, unsurprised when he saw nothing and nobody. Guanlin had led the other down and across a series of halls and corridors.  Eventually, they’d ended up in what Ong presumed to be the southeast wing of the castle. The chick had taken them on such an amount of slight turns and detours that Seongwoo wasn’t quite sure.

 

“Wh- What are you looking at? Have you gotten us lost?” Seongwoo asked.

 

“No,” Guanlin shook his head, “I needed to make sure nobody had followed us.”

 

“Wh… What?” The security measure surprised Seongwoo. He hadn’t thought Guanlin such a prudent one, but he concluded that, perhaps, being ward to a famed General made one adopt such tactical thinking.

 

The chick did not dignify the other’s wonder with a response. Pupils dashing around, the boy slipped behind one of the statues in the hall and started brushing his fingers along the wall behind it. He rapped on the decorated panel a few times, and the echoing knock sounded distinctly hollow. Seongwoo’s mouth hung ajar as he watched the panel of the wall swing open slowly. He supposed it would have been strange if he’d been the only person to know of secret passages in the palace; but Guanlin, of all people, knowing of one shocked him.

 

“Come on,” The younger boy ushered him into the opening. He yanked one of the nearby torches off the wall before quickly slipping through himself. With his mouth hanging open, questions mobbing his mind, Seongwoo could do nothing but follow. The older man rushedly followed the younger, and the younger shut the door behind him.

 

Seongwoo found himself in a stone stairwell. A cool draft gently blew through the space, and the smell of must floated into the concubine’s nose. Guanlin held the torch with one hand; with the other, he beckoned Ong forward. The older man could think to do nothing other but oblige. He briefly thought it would have been quite silly for him to die that way. To let himself be deceived by sweet looking boy only to have his throat slit in some god forsaken passage. Upon further thought, Seongwoo realized how easy it could have been. The General could have easily put the younger one up to it. As the two walked further, anxiety began to knot Seongwoo’s stomach. The possibility felt increasingly real, and he started to regret trusting the other in the first place. He felt graceful when their short descent ended and they were met with another door.

 

“In here,” Guanlin said. His tone had perked up, he sounded almost excited.

  
The young boy pulled on the large, worn handle of the old door, and it opened with a thunderous creak. He giddily rushed inside, dashing about the seemingly tiny space to light the small lanterns that adorned its confined walls.

 

Seongwoo followed, though he did so much more slowly. He looked around deliberately, drinking in the sight of the new place which he had just discovered. Another library, he thought. The space was much more cramped than any of the other studies or libraries that Seongwoo had seen. Tall shelving had been stuffed to the brim with books, papers, and even scrolls. The concubine quirked an eyebrow at that. He ambled in, eyes tracing every single shelf carefully. Upon further inspection he saw that not only papers or documents adorned the shelves, but there were a few things strewn about: exotic looking weapons leaned against the wall, various trinkets, and textiles folded haphazardly and thrown into piles. The place was a mess, and at the center of it sat a small desk with a lamp and a threadbare seat.

 

“Is this a… A library?” Seongwoo asked, scratching the back of his head.

 

Guanlin, finished lighting the lanterns in the room, turned around to face the other. He grinned widely with immense satisfaction. 

 

Shaking his head, he replied, “No, this is an… Archive!” He sounded thrilled to share it with the older man. Seongwoo’s eyebrows raised. He couldn’t help the tiny itch at the edge of his lips from coaxing him into smiling.

 

“Archive?” Seongwoo asked. He looked around again. It made sense - sort of. Typically archives were very thoroughly organized. In his opinion this room appeared to be someone’s large closet, if that. Regardless, the thought intrigued him.

 

“Well- In a way,” Guanlin chuckled sheepishly, “My Master has taken me here a few times- just to keep him company while he works.”

 

Seongwoo’s smile faltered, “Your Master?”

 

“Yes!” The chick beamed, “He has not used this space in a long time, but there is actually a lot of information here. He typically uses this desk for journaling after tours and accounting for sensitive affairs and artifacts.”

 

“Sensitive… Affairs? I apologize Guanlin, but can you elaborate. I- I am confused.”

 

“Well I suppose the best way I can say it is that… It’s full of old stuff,” He shrugged, “There are papers and logs and letters dating back a decade- at least, that’s what Master says. He keeps all kinds of things from old tours and such, both sensitive and sentimental.”

 

Ong scrutinized the space again. Looking more closely, he could understand what Guanlin meant. The exotic weapons had likely been acquired during skirmishes with enemy soldiers; the General had probably taken a few as trophies. Same for the trinkets or textiles. A tinge of bitterness stained Seongwoo’s heart as he regarded the space with his newfound knowledge. He wondered: if he’d been a trinket or an object, would he have ended up there?

 

“I- I appreciate this. It’s all… Very interesting,” Seongwoo said, “But how is this to help me with planning a festival? Festivals are joyous times and this is all a bit…”

 

Guanlin grinned at the older man and briefly ducked behind one of the shelves in the room. When he emerged, he held a small basket with strips of ribbon wrapped around the handle. He tossed the basket onto the desk (kicking up a small cloud of dust with it). 

 

“As I said, sentimental,” He pointed at the basket, and Ong approached the desk to look inside. He gingerly reached in, withdrawing a small square of dyed cloth and eyed it.

 

“Is this from-”

 

“It’s an old decoration, I think. There ought to be some old magazines in there, too. Something or the other about the festival being covered in a lady’s publication,” Guanlin shrugged.

 

“Why would he keep this?” Ong asked.

 

“He’s sentimental, as I said,” Guanlin replied. “Master has spent a lot of time out on the field. He keeps a lot of these things as artifacts of war. Sometimes it is necessary to bring back certain things, or so I’ve heard. Locks of hair, weapons, coats of arms… Whatever signifies that the job had been done.” Seongwoo tore his gaze away from the basket on the desk and looked at Guanlin. The older man frowned when he considered the weight of the other’s words. He despised his mind for even daring such a thing, but he felt deeply tempted to ask the boy: is that what you are?

 

“Master does not like to admit it, but… Just as he needs to keep proof of his victories, he wants to keep proof of his happy experiences here, too.”

 

“Right. Of course.”

 

“Now you can see why this place is meant to be kept absolutely secret. You gave me your word, Seongwoo. You will keep this place secret, right?” The young boy’s doe like eyes had a pleading look in them (as if Seongwoo could possibly say no).

 

“Guanlin, I gave you my word,” Seongwoo said, “I will not tell anyone about this place, however, if I may ask… How can you trust me so much? You’ve asked me to keep this even from Sungwoon.”

 

The younger boy shrugged, “I can just tell.”

 

“Tell what?” The older chuckled, at a loss.

 

“I can tell you have a good heart and a great propensity for keeping secrets.”

 

“Oh, propensity! When did you learn that one?”

 

“Just the other day!” Guanlin laughed. “Anyways- Sungwoon is a stickler for the rules. He’d be devastated if I were to let anyone in here.”

 

“That  _ does  _ sound like him.”

 

“Doesn’t it?” The young boy began walking toward the entrance.

 

“Wait- Where are you going?” Seongwoo asked after him.

 

“Well I have no reason to be here! I have another engagement.”

 

“Wh- You? With another engagement?”

 

“Brother- Why do you act so surprised?!” Guanlin animatedly pouted, crossing his arms.

 

“I no- no I am sure you have very pressing matters to attend to.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

“Do you?”

 

“Alright- Maybe not-”

 

“Ah-hah!”

 

“I am just curious!” Seongwoo said with a laugh, “That’s all. Of course-” He held his hands up, “-it is none of my business. Go and enjoy doing whatever it is you are doing.”

 

Guanlin chuckled, “It’s just a dance lesson.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yes. Nothing formal. Woojin - one of the court dancers - offered to help me. With the festival in the coming weeks, I must make sure that my steps are flawless!”

 

“Very smart of you,” Seongwoo couldn’t help grinning. 

 

“Please make sure you blow out all the candles before leaving,” Guanlin said. Seongwoo nodded, grinning and waving as the other departed. The young chick gave him one last glowing grin before disappearing up the steps.

 

Seongwoo waited until he felt sure the other had gone before taking a seat at the desk. He looked around at the cluttered room. Books, papers, letters, ledgers, dolls, and even small portraits had been heaped on the shelves. The concubine glanced down at the basket in front of him. He rifled through the contents, sorting everything. Just as Guanlin had said, a few small publications sat beneath some banners and even a long dead bouquet. The concubine pulled out the first magazine (‘Jeon Gazette’) and opened it. 

 

He nearly jumped out of the worn chair he’d sat in when a piece of folded paper fell out. Seongwoo investigated the slip carefully. It had been folded once in half and ripped along one side. It’d been torn from a book, the concubine decided. The exposed side of the paper remained blank which implied that the piece of paper had likely not been torn out of a publication of sorts. It was personal.

 

“No…” Seongwoo mumbled to himself as he picked up the paper. He wondered if Guanlin had been accurate in saying that the place served as a dumping ground for the General’s acquisitions. If that had been the case then, the man theorized, he was holding a personal paper of General Park Jihoon’s. “Don’t open it…” Ong whispered to himself and bit on his lower lip. 

 

His traitorous fingers unfolded the piece of paper as if to spite his mind. He cursed quietly but did nothing to stop his gaze from tracing every single line and mark on the man’s personal effect. The concubine’s anticipatory expression fell slack. He tilted his head and brought the piece of paper closer to his face. He traced and retraced the faded lines on the paper over and over again, and he felt something press inside his chest.

 

Seongwoo concluded that the markings had been made with charcoal judging by how smudged and faded they were. He shook his head in disbelief as he looked at the faded figure on the paper. The depiction was by no means masterful, but it had been rendered with care. The curves undeniably replicated those of the subject’s down to the faint subtleties. Most distinguishing was the tiny dot just beneath the right eye. To confirm his conjectures, Ong glanced at the lower right corner. Just as he’d thought, no date or formal signature; the only words on the page were sloppily scrawled at a corner, a title for the work: “Him”.

 

Park Jihoon had sketched Kang Daniel.

 

While the General did not appear to have a bright future in the arts, Seongwoo could clearly see the care taken to get the details right. The warlord had sketched a bust of the King laughing, with a flower in his hair. Ong assumed it had been drawn from memory, some idyllic scene from that year’s festival. Jihoon had made sure to add the tiny lines that formed around Daniel’s eyes when he laughed and the scrunch of his nose. He’d nailed down precisely the way the man’s lips curved up, and he’d even managed to show the subtle misalignment of Daniel’s teeth. 

 

Something about seeing the sketch made Seongwoo feel amiss. He’d never felt qualms about snooping prior, and it struck him as odd to suddenly begin feeling guilty in that moment. However, he could not help but think he’d looked at something a tad more intimate than he ought have. 

 

Seeing the General’s vague rendition of Daniel’s laughter made the concubine curious what it had been like to really be in the moment. What had gone through the General’s mind? Had he seen it immediately and thought it needed to be cherished? Or had the image stuck in his head until he felt as if he couldn’t hold it in any longer? Associating Park Jihoon with such humanity irked the concubine. After all, the man had dangled the innocent life of his own concubine in Seongwoo’s face just days earlier.

 

Seongwoo replaced the drawing to its original spot in the basket before his mind could run rampant with any more thoughts. The last thing he needed was to garner sympathy for General Park Jihoon of all people. Ultimately, the man’s lovesick drawing told Ong nothing he didn’t already know: Jihoon was smitten with Daniel.

 

Thinking about it made the concubine’s blood simmer ever so slightly. The man had had the nerve to drag another human being into the palace to be given over as some sort of gift. And for what? In hopes that his object of affection would appreciate the gesture and politely decline? Well, Seongwoo thought, God had decided to pay Park Jihoon back in the utmost bitter irony.

 

The concubine gazed around the library with renewed wonder. Any sort of ill feelings toward snooping about the General’s affairs had dissipated. Ledgers and files chock full of information - ranging from personal to historical - filled the shelves; Seongwoo had been left alone with all of it. He started to go through any questions he could possibly have had about both General Park Jihoon and the Kang Kingdom itself. A tricky grin spread across his lips as he wondered about all the curiosities he could possibly encounter.

 

* * *

 

General Park’s private study had proved fairly useful. Seongwoo had to weed through a large mass of mostly useless things, but he’d gathered enough information worthy of presentation to his partner in planning. Once the man had satisfied his needs regarding formal planning, he desired to scratch a different itch.

 

The concubine felt keenly inclined to explore the General’s study. Thoroughly. Not for any particular reason, of course. The last thing Seongwoo wished to do was to meddle or find some sort of jarring weakness or embarrassment of the man or the Kingdom. No, he told himself, it was merely for supplemental festival research. And so the concubine had found himself sitting on the floor with a pile of randomly pulled books at his side.

 

Many of the volumes that had been stored were in languages he could not understand. One journal Seongwoo had found looked to be a personal recipe book of the General’s. A few more sketches were thrown into well worn books, though none of the King. One book, a hefty tome outlining (outdated) military tactics, had been marked up to near illegibility. The concubine had contentedly snooped for a few hours, and he felt no need to stop any time soon as he grabbed another text from the pile. The hardcover of the book was red with a faded intricate drawing. Though the concubine could not see what the drawing was of (if anything at all), he thought it quite nice. 

 

Seongwoo’s eyes squinted as he brought the strange text closer to himself. He couldn’t recognize the written language at all, but the strange illustrations intrigued him. He flipped through a few pages scrutinizingly, trying to make sense of everything. Without any sort of warning, Seongwoo came across an image that made sense. Explicitly. 

 

Heat rippled through his body as intense embarrassment set in, stinging his cheeks and causing his heart to flip. Despite what he knew to be decorum, he could not tear his eyes away from the picture. Never in his life had he seen a picture so vulgar realized so plainly. Let alone in a text! Yet there it had been placed so casually alongside a page of text. Part of him wanted to speculate as to what the hell the text indicated that so necessitated the depiction aside it. Even with embarrassment causing blistering warmth to course through his veins, the concubine’s eyes remained fixed on the image. Though some parts of the depiction baffled him, the drawing showed one thing with uncompromising clarity:

 

Two men together. Naked. One penetrating the other.

 

That’s where the clarity ended. With both fascination and lewd embarrassment, Ong closely studied the picture trying to decipher what was happening. One laid on his side - the one penetrating the other. The other person laid on their back almost perpendicular to the other. That figure’s legs were bent at the knee, butterflied to either side. At least, that’s what Seongwoo could make of it. He couldn’t tell whether or not their pose was meant to be optimal - their expressions communicated neither strong pleasure nor pain. He flipped a few pages in hopes of clarity.

 

At the very least what he’d found looked much more straightforward. One person sat with their legs spread. The other laid on the ground between in the other’s legs with their own knees resting on the penetrator’s shoulders. It seemed far from a convenient position to “move” from, but the concubine tried to pay it no mind. He truly tried. Ong wondered if it had gotten warmer in the room or if it was just shame that started to make his linen shirt stick to his neck uncomfortably.

 

Ong questioned why the hell General Park had even kept such a vulgar piece of literature, but he decided he did not want to know. The last thing he desired was to picture General Park of all people engaging in anything lewd. Nonetheless, curiosity nudged Seongwoo forward; he flipped through a few more pages. His cheeks stung and he started to nibble on his bottom lip. 

 

He haphazardly stopped on a page with a position that looked particularly taxing. It looked downright improbable. One of the men stood upright. The other person had wrapped their legs around the penetrator’s hips and had slung an arm around the other’s neck. Their partner helped support them, hoisting the other with a firm grip around their back and beneath their ass. Even with the clear exertion maintaining such a pose would require, the suspended subject had been drawn with their head drawn back in sheer ecstasy. The standing man’s face affectionately nuzzled the other’s chest as he skewered the person on his penis.

 

Seongwoo internally scoffed. Daniel was strong, but not that strong. There was no way the man could-

 

The concubine’s eyes shot wide open with horror. He dropped the book as both hands darted to cover his mouth in shock, as if they would help. Searing hotness lapped at his cheeks and pooled in his groin. He urged his mind not to betray him, but his resistance merely resulted on more insistent invasions of the mind. A shudder ran through him as the pictures so vividly played through his head.

 

Daniel wrapping his arms around him, supporting him. Seongwoo could imagine himself looping an arm around the man’s broad shoulders, dipping his head back to allow the other’s lips and teeth to graze his collarbone. He knew his Master had greed for him and would happily partake given the opportunity. The man would stain his neck and chest with blotches of red and purple, marks to tell the world to whom Seongwoo belonged. The concubine could almost feel Daniel’s strong arms around him, one on his back while the other avariciously gripped his ass. The concubine had to bite down on his lip hard to curb the bubble of unholy urges that floated up in his chest. He dug his nails into his palms, hoping the pain could skim off some of the pleasuring sensation that the envisioning cast over him.

 

Unfortunately, it did nothing. His imagination ran rampant. He remembered how it felt to have the other pressed up against him, how his hard-on felt slotted between his ass cheeks. He still could not fathom how the other would feel inside of him, how it’d feel to be bouncing on his cock. Flames ignited at the core of Seongwoo’s guts and he felt almost powerless to stop them. He squirmed at how tight his breeches felt, shifting in his seat. 

 

The concubine could not stand it anymore. He rushedly grabbed the book. With a shaky hand he shoved it into the nearest slot he could reach. He loathed that Daniel had the power to vex him both in the flesh and in his mind. No matter how much Seongwoo prayed that his brain would respond to reason, his libido always seemed to take command when aroused. Seconds after stuffing the book onto a shelf slot, a variety of thudding noises echoed out in the small study.

 

The loud sounds came as such a shock that Seongwoo nearly turned heel and ran. He watched in horror as, from a single book being placed, nearly a dozen other things fell. The integrity of the shelf’s arrangment had, apparently, been much more precarious than he’d estimated. Even when everything had fallen, a tiny noise still rang out. The noise had an almost metallic screechy tone to it, but to what it belonged to, Seongwoo had yet to discern. Cautiously, he approached the pile of fallout, trying to find the source of the strange sound. He saw books, loose papers, a few pamphlets, and a couple of trinkets. Just as the concubine had prepared himself to write any noises off as personal madness, something moved.

 

Seongwoo reeled back as a small, dusty box jolted. His heart stopped as he witnessed the strange, disjointed movements. Stifled noises came out from the lid; they sounded like croaky squeaks. The tiny box jumped again slightly, and the concubine contemplated fleeing the scene completely. He feared that if he saw a mouse slip out through the cracked lid that he would turn to stone on the spot. 

 

He narrowed his eyes at the trinket, waiting for some crawling little creature to scurry out. After a few moments nothing more happened and the sound ceased. Still wary, Ong nudged the box with his foot which elicited another squeak to come out. Then nothing. He did it again, this time more curious than fearful, and yet another squeak came out - a subtly sounding squeak. Then another spell of silence.

  
Swallowing hard, the concubine slowly trod toward the small object. He squatted down and, hesitantly, reached out toward it. With a shaky hand he touched it; his fingers immediately drew back, scared, but once again it yielded little reaction. Finally, his curiosity overcame his apprehension and he picked the thing up.

 

A layer of dust coated the thing. The first thing Ong did upon bringing it closer to his eyes for inspection was blow some of the dirt off. He raised his eyebrows with fascination. The dirt had been concealing a luminous surface. At least, it appeared that the surface had once been luminous. Smudges mottled the smooth surface of the box. Seongwoo could feel lines along the top of the box; it had been inscribed with detailed curvature resembling flowers. Gently, Ong lifted the lid of the box. His jaw dropped open, and he stared in awe, spellbound.

 

Small mirrors had been affixed to the underside of the lid. Hidden beneath it, a carved figure of two people dancing sprung to life. On either side of them were small compartments lined with worn velvet that had probably been a vivid blue once upon a time. Seongwoo traced a finger on the underside of the box as he slowly pieced everything together. Once he’d come to his conclusion, the discovery of the winding key came as no surprise. He cranked the key a few times at let it go.

 

Initially, the figure of the dancers sputtered, and the dusty old machine could only crow out a few hoarse notes. However, as the seconds ticked forward, the forsaken old device seemed to reacquaint itself with its purpose. Notes began ringing out more consistently, and soon the dancers spun around in a smooth, albeit slow, rhythm.

  
Seongwoo held the music box in both his hands delicately, watching in wonder as its sweet melody filled the archive room. When it stopped, he winded it again, and listened to it play. He gasped upon realizing something: those notes sounded familiar. When the box’s playing came to a halt, he quickly wound it again, putting the box closer to his ear.  

 

His mind went blank, and his vision blurred.

 

For a moment he wondered: what had happened to obscure his sight? When hotness rushed to his face and welled in his eyes he knew. Tears streamed down his face before he could so much as think about them, before he could even comprehend why. His body knew it more rightly than his mind. The song lilting out from the box in his hands was one he hadn’t heard for a very, very long time.

 

The concubine blinked furiously in an attempt to clear the tears from his eyes. His throat closed around a mass of melancholy causing him to choke on a sob. When the notes began to drawl out slowly, he cranked the key again. He didn’t want the song to end. He couldn’t let it.

 

Memories flooded his mind of a place far away.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to see it, that familiar place he’d lost. He tried to remember the details of a room, dark tiles on the floor, big wooden furniture. He supposed that everything looked big to him back then. He felt grateful that he could still remember details of that place: the dents and scratches he’d put in the bed frame, the way the light poured in through the windows. If he tried hard enough, the concubine could still remember the sensation of grasping at the bottom of his mother’s skirts. He would cling to them for dear life as a child, relishing in the strange sensation of the layers of fabric, the different textures. If he listened closely enough, from the crudely plucked out notes, he could hear his mother’s humming voice in his ears. Eventually, the notes drew out once more, coming out more and more slowly until they finally ceased. 

 

Seongwoo’s vision rapidly dissolved without it, and his eyes snapped open.

 

He stared at the box for an indiscernible amount of time. Occasionally, excessively violent sobs would cause his body to quake with despair. His face scrunched and teardrops hazed his vision. His mind had gone blank. He chased desperately after the vivid vision he’d had of a past time; yet, he could never quite catch it. Whenever he grew close, something would usurp him and steal him away.

 

Gradually, not even fleeting dreams of times past could rouse Seongwoo’s interest any longer. Nothing could. The sting of bitterness briefly stung his heart until it faded, giving way to numbness. The devastation he’d felt was by no means new to him. The tears that had fallen had dripped down his cheeks many times prior. As much as he loathed the thought, Seongwoo knew they would likely come many times more. Still, it always ended the same:

 

With hollowness.

 

He felt keenly aware of what he’d lost but felt powerless in that moment to rectify it. All he could do was move forward. That he had told himself just as many times as he’d cried over the past. However, it had yet to grow easier. Still, just as he had many times prior, and just as he would in the future, Seongwoo picked himself up. He wiped his face and sniffled, looking around the archives with a newfound disdain. 

 

Trophies.

 

They were all trophies.

 

Trophies and archives and ledgers and useless things shoved into a god forsaken basement for the General and his fellow men to forget. 

 

Seongwoo’s heart hurt. He clenched his chest and tried to swallow down something else. Rage. He noticed all the little things that he hadn’t before sitting around the room. The dolls - they’d probably belonged to a child from one of the Kingdom’s acquisitions. Textiles? Swiped from a person’s home. Had they been used for function or ornament? Perhaps they were special. Some probably bore crests from families that had been wiped out. Were the letters there all personal for General Park? Or had he seen fit to collect those too?

 

Then there were the logs. Lists upon lists of the dead, injured, and missing. Innocent lives reduced to ink on paper.

 

The concubine set the music box down gently before approaching one of the shelves. He yanked out one of the bound logs and opened it. He flipped through indignantly. Name after name after name after name filled the pages top to bottom, column after column of name after name after name. They were all people, all lives at some point. Some names were clumped together, some even with circles drawn around them. Families had been slain together.

 

Seongwoo threw the book down angrily, and he grabbed another. The same thing. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d expected. He supposed rage felt more fulfilling than melancholy numbness in that moment, so he stoked the fire within him regardless of the consequences. He tossed that book aside too, pulling out another. Name after name after name, all for what? From what Seongwoo could see, the Kang Kingdom still floundered within. They had spent decades trying to exert dominance while barely managing to maintain order among their own.

 

Name.

 

After name.

 

After name.

 

After name.

 

The concubine threw down another log and got another. He clenched his teeth angrily as he scoured the lists. He started to ponder whether or not those listed had led fulfilling lives, what they would have done had their lives not been cut short. The ledgers dated back to over a decade. Over a decade of destruction. It enraged Seongwoo as his fit continued. He pulled lists, eyes devouring the walls of names within before angrily tossing them aside. He ripped pages out in the midst of his breakdown, and hot tears began wetting his face once more.

 

Name after name after name after name.

 

He didn’t bother reading them, didn’t even bother taking the logs out one by one. Soon, that alone could not sate him. Wringing a hand through his hair, Seongwoo gritted his teeth. Every ounce of residual bitterness he had prior suppressed rolled into an aching pain that encapsulated his heart, choking it out. In one sweeping motion, Seongwoo threw down an entire shelf of books, letters, and more. Ledgers flew and papers slowly drifted to the ground, flitting about in every which direction. He kicked the chair over and tore down the weapons that had been hanging. Red filled his vision as he stormed through the room, leaving almost nothing unturned.

 

He nearly cleared the desk, but something stopped him. Light just barely caught the dull silver of the tiny music box he’d found. Suddenly, the anger that had surrounded him shattered. Exhaustion washed over the concubine as he took a moment to realize what he’d done.

 

One could look through the shelves due to the fact that they’d been emptied. Books and paper covered the floor; miscellany piled on top of them. A faint fog of dust had been kicked up, and specks floated visibly, surely waiting to see where they ought to settle. The concubine frowned as he took in the damage he’d dealt. It surprised him to see that he hadn’t knocked over a candle and set the place on fire.  

 

“Shit,” Seongwoo hissed through his teeth. He pinched the bridge of his nose, immensely disappointed in his actions. Slowly, he dropped to his knees and he put his face in his hands.

 

“I have to clean this up,” He mumbled to himself. Another sob threatened to shake his body once more, but he held it in. He decided he’d had enough emotional outburst for a night. After a few minutes of being hunched over, he finally summoned the energy to get back up and clean up the mess he’d made.

 

The numb sensation in his chest lingered faintly.

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure nothing’s the matter?” Eunji asked Seongwoo. She looked at him as if to say “I know something is the matter but will not force you to say so. But I know!”. 

 

“I am tired. That’s the matter,” Seongwoo replied. He took another spoonful of stew with rice. The savory dish warmed him from the inside in the best possible way. He took time to savor the bite, relishing in the kick of spice intertwined with subtle sweetness.

 

“You definitely look tired. You’re lucky you caught me when you did! This was just about to be pig’s food,” The maid said, gesturing to his bowl of stew. 

 

After stepping back and realizing what an absolute mayhem he’d made of the General’s study, Seongwoo labored to meticulously put everything back in place. He could by no means assure that everything had returned to its original place, but everything was at least in  _ a  _ place. He doubted the General would notice. Or, more accurately, he prayed the General did not. 

 

When all had been said and done, Seongwoo had worked up a considerable appetite. He’d dashed to the servant’s dining hall in hopes to find some sort of scraps left. God had smiled down upon him, sending him an angel in the form of a friendly maid carrying a large pot of leftover stew.

 

“Oink oink,” Ong snarked.

 

“So that’s it? No explanation as to why you’re out and about so late?”

 

“Why are you out and about so late?”

 

The older woman rolled her eyes, “I have things to do this late.”

 

“And so do I!”

 

“Oh?” Eunji’s tone abruptly changed from nagging to interest, “Could it perhaps have something to do with… Planning something?” She grinned and wiggled an eyebrow.

 

“I- So maybe it is! How does everyone hear things so quickly around here? It’s scary.”

 

“Just give up on keeping anything from me and your life will be made easier,” She replied matter-of-factly, taking a sip of the tea she’d whipped up for herself.

 

Seongwoo snorted. Even sitting at a worn old table on shanty chairs, surrounded by bustling servants, he’d never felt more comfortable. He had Eunji to thank for that. Ong decided that she was the most down to earth person he’d met in the Castle by far. He almost wished the woman had a title of sorts; he thought she deserved it. In reality, he knew that her poor upbringing is what gave her such a clear, self-assured perspective on life.

 

“Noted,” Seongwoo responded. The concubine put down his spoon and opted to tip the bowl to his lips. He happily slurped up the remainder of the stew, wiping his mouth crudely with his sleeve when he’d finished.

 

“Not fancying an after dinner cup of tea today?” Eunji looked on, surprised at Seongwoo’s relative lack of chattiness. 

 

“Only thing I’m fancying is a cup of sleep,” Ong replied.

 

The head maid laughed, “The fact that you just said the words ‘cup of sleep’ in succession provide testament to that. Go get some rest,” She waved him away. Seongwoo gave the maid a warm grin, wishing her a good night before striding off.

 

The red silk sheets of his bed beckoned to him insistently, and his legs quickly carried him toward his destination. Seongwoo felt exhausted. Again. Every day had presented a new onslaught of trials for him to encounter. Be they emotional, intellectual, or physical, the challenges showed no sign of stopping. Ong did not doubt his own capability, but it did not diminish his wish for relief. Though he knew he’d faced and overcome worse things, occasionally he yearned for a stop to all of the madness. 

 

Occasionally, he envied Guanlin. The boy lived in relative simplicity. Seongwoo wondered what it would be like to live in such a state. Always yielding to his Master, pleasing him. He knew that, no matter what amount of effort he put in, he could never enjoy a life like that. It made him contemplate: did Guanlin genuinely enjoy the life he led? He’d always seemed to, but Seongwoo wondered if, perhaps, the other was in a similar boat to he. Perhaps the boy had put on so many masks that he’d forgotten which were real and which were fake.

 

Fussing over Guanlin only added to the mounting stress that piled onto Seongwoo’s shoulders. He wrung his hand over his face and opted to compartmentalize that particular trouble for another day’s worrying. Rubbing his eyes, the concubine took pause. He heaved a loud yawned, and it echoed down the long corridor he’d been walking down. Hushed noises from around the corner of the hall filtered into his ears, and Ong immediately forgot about what he’d been thinking of.

 

Quirking an eyebrow, the concubine tiptoed to the corner of the hall. The noises grew slightly more clear, and Ong could discern the sound of footsteps and voices. He knew it was rather late at night, which only further fueled his puzzlement. He peered just beyond the turn of the corner to see what was going on. Two dark, shadowy figures were engaged in a conversation. 

 

Seongwoo hurriedly ducked behind the nearest statue, heart pounding. He squatted down and peers through a small gap between the sculpture’s arm and hip. The concubine could hardly make out the figures in the distance. Both were cloaked. One stood slightly shorter than the other, but not enough for there to be meaningful deductions drawn. The taller of the two shed his hood.

 

Hwang Minhyun was someone Seongwoo would likely never forget.  Even from the distance, Seongwoo could make out the fox of a man. He wondered why the hell the man was at Castle Jeon. To his knowledge, the man had stayed at his villa. Or fucked off back to his own castle. Seongwoo neither knew nor cared. All he knew was that seeing the man both startled and irked him to a large degree. 

 

Ong considered that the other cloaked figure could possibly be Baekho, the Duke’s concubine. The concubine could hardly distinguish the other’s features, but he could tell the Duke wasn’t happy. His mouth appeared to be stretched into a nervous frown, and his fingers fidgeted with the edges of the cloak’s sleeves. His mouth moved quickly, and he leaned in to talk to the other person. 

 

Ong mouthed to himself, “What the hell?” as he watched on. The other person spoke entirely too softly to be heard.

 

Duke Hwang nibbled on his lower lip. His pupils shifted about suspiciously, and he spoke more insistently (or at least, it appeared so). Not once did the other figure waver. They remained cool and composed, only nodding their head occasionally as they spoke; even their hands remained stationary, clasped in front of them. 

  
“-I can’t-” The Duke’s whisper bounced around the (mostly) empty corridor. His hand darted to cover his mouth and he shrunk down slightly. He finished his thought but did so too quietly for Seongwoo to hear. 

 

The concubine’s heart sunk, steeped in anxiety. An aura of malignance surrounded the secret meeting, and Seongwoo was in no way interested in getting caught on the fringe of it. Though he typically would have remained longer to sneak about, his mind felt entirely too tired to comprehend any more new, vague information. It simply felt too full. His heart had already begun to race the way it did when a fit of nerves came on, and he wished to leave before it advanced any further.

 

As quietly as possible, Seongwoo dashed off in the opposite direction. He tried with all his might to shake thoughts of cloaked figures and secret meetings and Duke Hwang from his head. He felt as if the majority of his time had been spent trying to not think about things. He decided that  _ not  _ thinking about things had proven infinitely more difficult than thinking about them. 

 

Regardless, it did not stop him from trying. He stubbornly did just that as he took a long route back to his bedroom. He ignored the shot of dread that ate away at his heart.

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo heaved a sigh the second the door to his chambers shut behind him. He dropped to the floor and remained there for a few minutes. He wanted nothing more than to remove his brain and scrub it clean. He wished that the mind and soul could work like soiled linens or dirty dishes. 

 

He had not deluded himself into thinking things were necessarily simple when he’d first arrived at the castle. However, things had only gotten increasingly more convoluted from his perspective. He’d gotten caught in a web when it was a single thread, and since, the spider had woven an intricate web surrounding him. In a way, he felt nostalgic for the relative simplicity of his initial arrival. He even valued the merits of being trapped in a cottage over those of being in a castle. In a cottage in the middle of the woods, the only priorities are warmth and survival. In court, a myriad of relationships, politics, and rules were added on top of basic survival.

 

All Seongwoo craved in that moment was relief, freedom, or a distraction at least. He feared that his reeling mind would keep him up all night at the rate at which he went. The concubine wracked his brain for a sleep aid - something fast and easy to put together. Even alcohol took time, and Seongwoo did not want to wait (nor did he desire to leave his room). 

 

Sluggishly, the concubine motivated himself to stand. He shed his boots and changed into a sleeping shirt, feeling defeated as he slipped beneath his covers. Just as he’d predicted: his reeling thoughts buzzed violently in his mind. Worries about those he cared for tangled with fears he had of those with bad intentions. Thoughts of the festival occasionally popped up, and sometimes when he closed his eyes he saw ribbons. Through all of it, Daniel stuck resolutely to the back of his mind, as if he’d caught on a branch and no wind could blow him away. It annoyed the hell out of Seongwoo. Thoughts upon thoughts upon thoughts swam about the concubine’s head until he’d had enough.

 

Ong threw his covers off in a huff, rubbing his eyes. After close to an hour of fruitless attempts at sleep, his fatigued brain picked an idea that, in that moment, seemed brilliant. His logic went as follows:

 

Instead of being plagued by many small distractions, perhaps one very large distraction would aid in remedying stress temporarily.

 

To the concubine’s sleep-deprived brain, the logic stood soundly. Though sleep aids like alcohol or monotonous counting took time, he knew one substantial distraction that had always had an instantaneous effect on him. 

 

A shiver ran over Seongwoo’s body as his bare feet hit the cold tile of his room. As it had been for the past weeks, the partition between his room and Daniel’s had been left open a sliver. He slipped through and paced over to the other’s bed.

 

Unsurprisingly, the King had not been asleep. The ruler looked up, brows raised in surprise, and he put down the book he’d been reading in bed.

 

“Seongwoo?” Daniel inquired softly.

 

“I’m cold,” The concubine muttered the poor excuse. 

 

His highness quirked an eyebrow, “Would you like extra blankets?”

 

“No,” The concubine said when he reached the side of the bed. He took the liberty of climbing in. Considering that the two had spent a night in that very bed acting like cats, he felt comfortable enough to climb in uninvited. The concubine stretched out on the roomy mattress, yawning loudly. 

 

Seongwoo would have been proud of his correct hypothesis had he possessed the capability of coherent thought. His prediction had panned out exactly as he’d thought. In the King’s presence, other distractions flushed out, leaving only one large distraction left: him. One distraction beat many, or so Seongwoo had wanted to believe. Faced with the distraction in question, he felt a mild twinge of regret.

 

Even though he’d laid down a considerable distance away from the King, he could still feel the other’s presence and gaze near him. Something about Daniel’s presence always felt so palpable to Seongwoo. He swore he could feel the man’s presence from across a room. His heart rate increased slightly, and fizzling sensations sparked and simmered in his chest. 

 

Still, the concubine found those sensations easier to cope with than the nerves that had plagued him just minutes before. It wasn’t as if they’d disappeared, but they dulled in comparison to the unique set of anxieties that Daniel gave Seongwoo. The concubine had resigned himself to needing to pick and choose which evils with which he dealt with at certain times. Daniel happened to be that evil in the moment.

 

Regret quickly got shoved aside by other feelings: primarily, tiredness. The last thing he heard before getting pulled under were soft words from the King:

 

“Good night.”

 

Evil, indeed.


	23. I'm Already Cursed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 23 WARNING(s): explicit language

Seongwoo yawned. He stretched languidly, willing his limbs to return to life. His mouth felt dry and dull pain knocked at his temples. Confusion flooded his mind as he rubbed his eyes until they adjusted to the darkness of the room. The sun had yet to crest the horizon just yet, but its rays had begun lightening the sky, ever so slightly. Through the window, Ong could see the dull light of the slate gray sky casting shadows across the King’s room. 

 

The King’s room.

 

The concubine inwardly groaned at the previous night. He hated his drunk self very, very much. Though Seongwoo would have typically opted to sleep until it was at least light out, he felt inclined to get out of bed as soon as possible. He glanced over to confirm the fact that Daniel had, in fact, fallen asleep next to him. 

 

His majesty looked so incredibly different when he slept. Blankets twisted and tangled around his long limbs, and his cheeks softly squished against the pillows. The juxtaposition between his rather youthful face in contrast with his incredibly muscled body never failed to surprise Seongwoo. His majesety’s body still had faint coloring from all the injuries he’d sustained on the hunting trip. In spite of that, he still looked so childlike as he slept.

 

The concubine couldn’t help himself. He scooted closer, and without his permission, his hand reached out. It gently cupped the side of the King’s face. He let his hand settle there gingerly, unconsciously caressing the King’s cheek with his thumb. It fascinated, just as much as it frustrated, him how many facets the man had presented. Daniel had shown himself to be stern and strict (though not cruel). He’d been bitter and kind and humorous and vulnerable. Seeing the man asleep showed yet another side of him: innocence. 

  
Seongwoo highly disliked General Park, but watching Daniel sleep made him understand why the General so incessantly labored to protect him. The King trusted easily and approached situations with sympathy. That, the concubine had to admit, was something worth protecting;  the majority of the nobility was bitter, jaded, and corrupted. King Daniel’s graciousness contrasted drastically and Seongwoo admired that. 

 

Even after years of being a member of the court, Daniel managed to retain his compassion. He gave willingly and had faith in people. Seongwoo frowned. It made the man a prime target for exploitation. As many had said, he readily yielded to the wants of others. He wanted to please everyone. 

 

A sinking pit formed in the concubine’s chest, one he tried very hard to ignore. He despised having pity for the man who stood for and represented what he hated. Even if the hatred wasn’t necessarily personal, it still existed. That man’s Kingdom ruined Seongwoo’s life. That was fact.

 

Or at least, Seongwoo told himself. He’d been telling himself that for more than a decade at that point, and for the longest time he’d believed it true. Though he still stood by the statement, the ferocity with which he despised the Kingdom had dulled. 

 

That genuinely terrified him. 

 

It went against everything he’d felt and accepted as reality for years, and he wasn’t prepared to face that. Not in the least.

 

“Daniel,” Seongwoo whispered; he thought aloud, “What am I going to do about this?” He frowned. His heart sunk further. He moved to withdraw his hand, but a firm grip suddenly closed around his wrist.

 

“Mn…” Daniel roused, causing the concubine’s heart to nearly shoot out of his chest. “Seongwoo?”

 

“Y-yes,” The concubine replied breathlessly, eyes wide with panic. The King stirred slightly. More than half asleep, he moved the concubine’s hand to his lips and placed a few sleepy kisses on the other’s palm.

 

Seongwoo’s mouth went dry. Brain function ceased. His fingertips felt as if they’d been dipped into a fire. He knew he ought to withdraw his fingers, but he couldn’t. Breaths rose up in his throat yet they remained stuck, as if stopped up by something. Daniel’s thumb gently stroked his palm, and it caused the concubine to shudder. Daniel blinked slowly, gradually becoming increasingly conscious. 

 

He dazedly looked at Seongwoo and slurred out, “Seongwoo… ‘Msorry…”

 

“Wh-” Seongwoo choked moreso than spoke. “What?” He wondered if the other noticed his hand shaking. 

 

“I didn’t…” Thinking appeared to be rather slothish for the King upon first waking. “Go to your bed.”

  
“What?” Seongwoo muttered. He thought that he’d been done getting surprised by Daniel, but the man had proved him wrong. His first thought upon waking up was to apologize for sleeping in his own bed. It astounded Seongwoo. He wanted to tell the man that it was okay, but the words refused to come out. It wasn’t okay; at least, it shouldn’t have been. The pulsating feeling of warmth radiating from his hand into his veins distracted him immensely. “I-I’m getting up anyways,” He stammered out.

 

“It’s dark,” Daniel mumbled.

 

“It is,” The concubine answered. The two stayed silent for a few minutes. The King seemed to lapse in and out of awareness, but he never stopped stroking Seongwoo’s hand. The concubine’s mind began roaming into treacherous territory; before he could stop it, he imagined what it would be like to wake up next to Daniel like that more often. His consciousness painted vivid visions of what it could be like. He pictured the other, much like he laid in front of him, lazily planting kisses on his palm, his wrist. They would slot their bodies against one another and their limbs would tangle. Daniel would nuzzle against Seongwoo’s face affectionately, and-

 

“I have to go,” Seongwoo whispered. He swiftly withdrew his hand from Daniel’s grasp and hopped out of bed. 

 

“Mhm,” Daniel didn’t seem to pay the other’s urgency any mind (or anything else, for that matter). He turned over and fell asleep with a quickness that Seongwoo found almost impressive. 

 

The concubine’s gaze lingered on his Master for a few seconds before he strode off, flustered.

 

* * *

 

“You know what goes great with peach?” Sungwoon commented.

  
Seongwoo rolled his eyes, knowing damn well what the older man was going to say, “No, Sungwoon. I told you we are not using sage green and that is final!” The older man scoffed and crossed his arms.

 

After leaving bed, Seongwoo had gone to the baths and gotten breakfast. It didn’t take the mentorly concubine long to hunt him down, and the two decided that nothing made a meeting better than a spring breeze. It had rained just that morning which made the musky aroma of dew and earth rise into their nostrils as they trod across the wet grass. The two had finally settled on a color for the festival: peach pink. The color nodded to the crest of the royal family (at least, the single remaining member of it). Its softness complimented spring florals well while still communicating effervescent vividity. They’d considered their agreement on the color a triumph until they realized that they still needed to pick at least one more. And so, once again, the two had taken up their rhetorical riding crops to beat the old horse once more. 

 

“Green compliments orange and pink tones beautifully,” Sungwoon protested.

 

“I think the contrast is a bit jarring. I insist that a-”

 

“A soft blue. Yes, we know. You love soft blue.”

 

“Your tone sounds so resentful when you say that.”

 

“I don’t resent your love for the color per se. I merely have been embittered toward it for life due to someone’s inability to shut the hell up about it. Not naming anyone.”

 

Ong grinned, holding a laugh in, “No names indeed.” 

 

It had been rather overcast for the majority of the morning, but the sun’s rays began peeking out between cracks in the clouds. Castle Jeon’s gardens were beautiful, that Seongwoo would never deny. He often fantasized about burning the castle to ashes; he made a mental note to leave the gardens in tact should it ever happen. The colorful assortment of lush greenery created an incredibly soothing backdrop for existence. Even the most acute of irritations seemed to numb when Seongwoo stepped outside.

 

Ong stopped. He heard soft noises, the sound of a commotion of sorts. He turned to Sungwoon who had heard the same thing. They exchanged curious expressions, quickly settling into a fast stride to find the source of the racket. The two quickly walked in the direction of the noise along a tall, pristinely manicured hedge. High pitched squeals and screams could be heard between the thick leaves of the tall bushes. Seongwoo’s eyes widened, wondering what in the hell could be going on in the gardens of all places. His instincts informed him that it could not possibly be anything good, and he picked up his pace. Sungwoon hesitantly followed along, hurrying after the quick concubine.

 

“Over there!” Seongwoo said back to Sungwoon. He pointed to the end of the long hedge wall. Whatever was going on was happening just around the corner. 

 

Sungwoon groaned and rolled his eyes. He hadn’t been expecting any running. Nevertheless, he runs after the other who appeared increasingly frantic. 

 

“There are palace guards everywhere,” Sungwoon muttered as he ran after the other along the green wall. “I’m sure everything is perfectly- oof!” The older concubine abruptly ran into the younger who had suddenly stopped. “Ow! My nose! What the hell are you-” Seongwoo turned around, gesturing quietly for Sungwoon to follow. The younger man quietly tiptoed around the corner, a look of fascination on his face as he crossed the threshold into one of the garden’s many enclosed havens. 

 

In the middle of the boxed in area was a large three tiered fountain. A beautifully sculpted rose sat atop the highest tier. Beneath it, from three large bowls of marble, water cascaded down. Each bowl had the faces of dogs - the Kang family symbol - sculpted into them and from their mouths more water poured out. Carved into the side of the very bottom tier were more rose motifs, and a ring of flowers had been planted around the diameter. A few tiny boats made from paper floated in the base. Young children fussed about, running and screaming at the top of their lungs; they were the source of the noise. A few of the children had hoisted themselves onto the lowest tier of the fountain, enthusiastically cheering on the boats. Off to the side sat an older woman - a governess - watching them play.

 

Seongwoo watched in silence. Nostalgia and bitterness swirled together inside of him. He thought the sight adorable, yet he could not bring himself to feel truly happy. The children of the Kang courtiers truly led privileged lives. They led lives that other children dreamed of while working in their family’s fields and rotting in tiny shacks. He couldn’t help but remember being a kid himself. The world had looked so, so different for him then. He’d had so many ideas as to the path down which God would lead him; none of them involved him being enslaved to the ruler of a tyrannous empire.

 

It was an odd place to be in: to simultaneously cherish the innocence of children while desiring to destroy the world they lived in.

 

“It’d be nice to live like that again, wouldn’t it?” Sungwoon said quietly. “Though, of course, I never really lived like  _ this-  _ with all the pomp and such.”

 

“Yes,” Seongwoo nodded, bringing himself back to the present, “Yes it would. I imagine growing up in this castle would be quite nice.”

 

“Agreed,” Sungwoon sighed wistfully. “Well, we best be getting on. Still have a color to decide on, and we’ve no need to disturb childre-”

 

“Is that King Daniel’s concubine?!” A little girl gasped in awe, pointing right at Seongwoo. Suddenly half a dozen sets of prying eyes set their sights on Seongwoo (along with the governess’s gaze as well). 

 

Seongwoo flashed an adoring grin as the kids abandoned their paper boats to get a look at him, the King’s ward. Suddenly, the wholesome idea turned sour in his head.

 

Still smiling, he leaned over to Sungwoon and whispered, “Sungwoon? How do they know I am the King’s concubine?” Anger speared his chest as he asked.

 

“Everybody knows, Seongwoo.”

 

“Everybody? Okay, then please,” Ong clenched his fists by his sides to vent some of his annoyance as the kids closed their distance. “Explain to me: why the hell do children know what a fucking concubine is?” His smile communicated friendliness, but his underlying tone spewed venom.

 

“Well concubines are a fixture in the culture’s history, and-”

 

“Are you telling me you sick bastards are parading sex slaves not only in front of your peers but your children?!” Seongwoo’s whispering sounded more and more intense with each word. Holding his fists no longer provided adequate release; so Ong proceeded to squeeze Sungwoon’s arm with one of his hands.

 

“Wh- Ow you’re hurting me! It isn’t like that you idiot now- now stop- God you’re going to cut off my blood flow.”

 

“I want to cut off more than that right now,” Ong snarled under his breath.

 

“Why are you directing this at me? Do I look like an ancient emperor?”

 

“I am directing this at you because you are the one hell bent on maintaining the status quo- Oh hello little ones!” The children were upon them, and they did not hesitate to step into their personal space. One of the girls wrapped her tiny hand around a few of Seongwoo’s fingers and began pulling him toward the fountain.

 

“We’re sailing boats!” She proudly exclaimed, as if the statement provided a complete explanation for all of life’s questions. Sungwoon had been subjected to similar treatment and had been stolen away by two little boys. Like baby birds, the others surrounded the men, chirping jovially about their new playmates.

 

“What’s the King like?” “Is his majesty nice?” “Does that collar ever itch?” “You’re really tall!” “Are you allowed to be my concubine?” “Do concubines have to study?” “Can I be a concubine some day?” “How old are you?” “Do you know how to make a paper boat?” “Let me hold your hand next!” Despite his reservations, Seongwoo laughed at their chatter.  The lens through which they saw the world was one he wished he could share. He glanced over at Sungwoon who looked equally, if not more, contented by the abrupt development. His chuckles started to grow into high pitched giggles as the tiny clan dragged him to the fountain’s edge.    
  


Ong had never thought Sungwoon the type to be good around children - nor to be the type to like them. He imagined that Sungwoon would be the first to debunk fairytales. It came as a relief to see the man hadn’t let out his typically brash, blunt personality. Yet. The younger man couldn’t help but wonder: did Sungwoon want children? It seemed silly to ponder such a thing about a man who seemed happy to live life out as a high class whore.

 

When the pair reached the fountain, the children instructed them that they  _ needed  _ to construct paper boats with them. Each concubine was handed a piece of paper and the children huddled around to watch their seniors construct the intricately folded boats. 

 

“Wow!” A little boy next to Ong gasped, “Yours looks different!”

  
Seongwoo laughed, “It’s a sailboat.” He lifted the paper craft up, pointing to a triangular fold that mimicked the smaller sail, “See, this is called a headsail- that’s the frontmost sail. And this,” He pointed to the larger triangle, “Bigger one is the mainsail. It faces the back.”

 

“How do you know that?” The small girl who’d led him there asked.

 

Sungwoon, sitting just a pace away, joined in, “Yes, how did you know that?”

 

Seongwoo shrugged with a wide grin across his lips, “I’m an expert.” Sungwoon rolled his eyes, but the children seemed convinced. The two set their boats asail and the little ones happily chattered, cheering for their favorite boats. 

 

“The tall man won!” “The King’s concubine won!” The children hollered when Seongwoo’s boat touched the middle of the fountain first. Unfortunately for Sungwoon, his paper dingy had taken a slight detour and ended up halfway across the fountain sideways.

 

“I didn’t know concubines knew how to do things other than dance!” One of the little girls piped up. Ong’s nose scrunched as he laughed at the odd statement.

 

“Why do you say that?” He asked. Sungwoon opened his mouth to explain, but another child, a little boy, beat him to it.

 

“I didn’t know they taught boat stuff at your dance lessons.”

 

“Wh- dance?” Ong looked to Sungwoon.

 

Sungwoon chuckled and looked to the children, “Surprise question! The first person to answer correctly will get a paper flower!” He called out to them. The tiny little nobles all fell into line, huddling up to him. With a grin, the eldest instructed, “You must raise your hand to answer- and be polite! No yelling it out.”

 

“Yes sir!” “You’ve got it.” “Yes Mr. Concubine!”

 

“Very good,” Sungwoon said, “First question: who can tell me what a concubine is? What do we do?” Little hands shot up, and Sungwoon pointed at the one that he’d seen go up first.

 

“A concubine is a- is a, um. They’re private dancers for the lords and ladies of the court.”

 

“Excellent answer!” Sungwoon said. He grabbed a slip of paper from the pile sitting on the edge of the fountain. Ong could think of no other way to react than to laugh. He wholeheartedly wished that he’d been brought on as a private dancer. As Sungwoon’s hands deftly began folding, he spoke more, “Another question, can anyone tell me why lords and ladies have concubines?”

 

A little girl raised her hand first, and she eagerly answered the question when prompted, “Because concubines make the people happy!” She said giddily.

 

“Exactly!” Sungwoon handed the geometric flower to the boy who’d answered the first question before starting on the second.

 

“Is that so?” Ong asked. His heart sunk thinking about how one day the young ones would realize the true role of a concubine.

 

“It is! It really works, too,” The girl replied. 

 

“I saw you and the King once,” Another little boy slid into the conversation. “You were going to a trip! He looked very happy. You must be really good at dancing.”

 

“Wh- Oh- oh you, um, must be- I’m sure he did not look that happy. I- I suppose I am a fairly, um, experienced… Dancer?” Ong struggled to answer the inquiries, and Sungwoon watched on amusedly. 

 

“Oh! Can you show us a dance!” “Please, dance for us!” “Show us a dance!” “My uncle said you danced wonderfully!” “Please Mr. King’s Concubine!” “Please!” “Teach us a dance?” “What kind of dancing does the King like?” “Is the King good at dancing?” “Tell us about King Daniel.” “Is King Daniel nice?” “King Daniel is very handsome.”

 

“Tell us a story!” One of the little girls demanded. Seongwoo looked up at the governess in hopes of an escape, but the woman merely shrugged at him.

 

“Do a story, do a story!” One of the little boys chimed in. Ong looked sideways at Sungwoon, then back at the children. He by no means disliked children. On the contrary, the concubine thought entertaining children an excellent breath of fresh air. However, he felt slightly reserved about doing so given the fact that he was a glorified sex slave. Something about it felt not quite right.

 

“You two Mr. Short-Man!” Another small girl chimed in. Sungwoon’s mouth fell open, and Ong snorted, doubling over.

 

“Story! Story! Story!” The half a dozen children swarmed around the concubines, yanking at their pant legs and tittering. Seongwoo bit his lip and gave the other a look pleading for help.

 

“Well,” Sungwoon said, clearing his throat, “Well- You are all in for a treat because Seongwoo is a- a very good story teller.” He tried not to laugh. Ong’s expression of begging dropped into a flat look of bitterness directed at Sungwoon. However, the children’s cheers of joy relieved some of his annoyance with the fellow concubine. With a sigh, Ong accepted defeat and looked down at the tribe of tiny humans goading him.

 

“Alright, alright. I will tell a story, but-” He pointed at Sungwoon, “I will need help acting it out.” 

 

“Yes!” “Help him!” “Yay!” The children laughed and clapped, huddling around Sungwoon. The older man smiled, but his eyes communicated irritation with the other concubine. Ong shrugged innocently with a smirk.

 

“Alright, well- well first you all must sit down on that blanket over there. Nice and orderly,” Seongwoo told the children, shaking his leg. The fledgling nobles obliged quickly, trotting over to the nearby blanket that the governess had laid out for them. They sat neatly with proper posture that had surely been a part of their learning regiment since they could walk. Seongwoo gestured for Sungwoon to stand a few paces in front of them.

 

“So- What- what kind of story do you want to hear about?” Seongwoo asked. 

 

“I want a story about a princess!” “Something daring.” “Adventure!” “There needs to be romance!” “Fight! Fight!” “It needs a happy ending!” “You’re a selkie!” “Mr. Short is a fairy!” “Oh- Mr. King’s Concubine should be a fairy too!” “What about sailboats- he knows about boats. He should be a sailor!” “No- a pirate!” “Can he still be a fairy?” “What about the short man?” “He’s a fairy, too!” “From the Cloud Kingdom!” “That sounds good!” “And he’s a princess.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Seongwoo, between laughs, gestured for the children to stop, “I believe we have heard an ample amount of ideas. Right Mr. Short?” Ong could barely stop himself from cracking up as he called his senior ‘Mr. Short’.

 

“My name is Sungwoon,” The eldest said, pouting.

 

“Right- Well, it is my understanding that Sungwoon here is a- A fairy princess from the Cloud Kingdom. And I,” Seongwoo pointed to himself, “I am a pirate fairy?”

 

“And a selkie!” One of the little girls said.

 

“Right, yes, how could I forget. Pirate selkie fairy. Did I get all that?”

 

“And he’s a King,” A boy said, pointing at Sungwoon.

 

“I thought he was a princess.”

 

“He can be both!” A girl replied.

 

“Okay. So I am a pirate fairy selkie and he is a fairy king princess… from the Cloud Kingdom?”

 

“Yes!” “Exactly!” “Yay!”

 

“Alright, excellent. Now where do we begin?”

 

“You take the princess captive!” “Because you’re in love!”

 

Ong snorted but took the idea and began working with it, “Alright, okay, well then-” He turned dramatically to Sungwoon. His entire physicality changed. No longer was he a mere concubine, but a triumphant pirate selkie fairy. He stood with his feet hip width apart, braced with his hands on his sides. Dramatically, he pointed to Sungwoon and said, “You are my prisoner!”

 

Sungwoon gasped animatedly, and, in a squeaky voice, he said, “No! I cannot be your prisoner, for I must rule over the Cloud Kingdom as both princess and King!”

 

Ong yanked Sungwoon by the arm and pulled him into a theatrical hold, dipping him low to the ground, “The only Kingdom over which you need rule is the Kingdom of my heart.” The children gasped and squealed.

 

“Oh pirate selkie fairy…” Sungwoon exaggeratedly caressed Ong’s face, “That would be so romantic, but… My Cloud army will never let you take me alive!” He looked over Ong’s shoulder toward the little boys sitting down and nodded for them to join the fray. The young boys did not hesitate to jump out of their seats and start tugging on Seongwoo’s pant legs and arms.

 

“No! My love!” Seongwoo dropped Sungwoon and reached out dramatically. “Thank God that I have my trusty pirate crew of selkies to help me win you over!” He looked back toward the girls who’d been sitting, and the three of them gleefully jumped up to join.

 

A fierce fictional battle was fought, and many fictional lives were lost that day. However, in the end, the Cloud Kingdom yielded, and true love prevailed. 

 

The two concubines collapsed onto the ground, exhausted. Their arms were sore from hoisting children up and down, and their abdominals were sore from laughing so much. Seongwoo could not recall the last time he’d felt such simple joy. They stood up and dusted themselves off.

 

“I’m afraid our itinerary for planning may have gotten slightly off track,” Sungwoon said with a grin.

 

“Such a shame,” Ong replied facetiously. The two began bidding farewell to the children, but they prolonged it considerably.

 

“One more! One more!” “We still didn’t get to see you dance!” “Dance for us before you go, please?” “Come back!” “Can you visit us tomorrow?”

 

Without warning, one of the little girls bolted. She ran toward Seongwoo and Sungwoon. For a moment, the two thought she would dash straight into them, but she bounded past them at the last second. The two concubines, confused, turned around. 

 

“Uncle!” She exclaimed ecstatically. With arms up, she ran toward a familiar man.

 

Suddenly, Seongwoo felt as if the air had been sucked out of his lungs. The sense of pure joy he’d felt dissipated instantly. He watched the man hoist the little girl up, and he carried her in his arms as he walked over. Ong swallowed nervously, and Sungwoon looked down as the man approached. The nobleman looked infinitely better than he had the last time either of the two concubines had seen him.

 

“Seongwoo, Sungwoon! What a pleasant surprise,” Duke Hwang Minhyun greeted the two with a bright smile.

 

Seongwoo’s heart sunk,“Duke Hwang,” He said. The pair bowed politely. “The surprise is all mine. How nice to see you on such a lovely afternoon. And you are looking well, too.” He forced a smile.

 

“They told a funny story, uncle!” The little girl said happily. The Duke regarded her with a fondness and warmth Seongwoo thought him incapable of. He truly looked like a completely different human being when holding the child. Seongwoo couldn’t bring himself to feel anything positive from the sight. It only served to make him feel mildly sick.

 

“Oh, did they?” Duke Hwang asked, “Well that was very nice of them! Did you say thank you?” He needled her affectionately, using his free hand to tickle her. His niece giggled before turning to the concubines.

 

“Thank you two!” She beamed, snuggling her head into the crook of her uncle’s neck. “You said he danced for you, right? The King’s concubine!” Duke Hwang chuckled, but the laugh had no humor in it. He retained a glowing exterior regardless of the underlying truth.

 

“That’s right, and he did a very good job!”

 

“He’s going to show us how to dance next time- right?” The girl turned to him. Seongwoo gave her a smile. His pupils darted to the Duke, and he tried to ignore the man’s penetrating gaze.

 

“Next time,” The concubine replied. “However, we must be off as of right now. Excuse us,” He and Sungwoon bowed again. They waved goodbye to the other children and the governess before walking off. It wasn’t until they turned the corner of the hedge that either of them spoke.

 

“Dancers?” Seongwoo asked with a dry laugh.

 

“Concubines have a large presence. They need to be explained somehow.” Sungwoon told him.

 

“And about how many years go by until they realize that it’s shit?”

 

The older man frowned. “I imagine most are informed of it about the same time they are told how children are born.”

 

“Unbelievable…” Ong shook his head. “And to think- to think that she- that adorable child is related to that- that vile man.” He felt like there was a stone sitting in his stomach; like an  immovable lump of disgust had affixed itself inside of him.

 

“I knew he had a niece, just not that… She was-”

 

“Do you think she will grow up to be like that? To- To be a monster? Like everyone else in this damn castle?”

 

“Seongwoo, settle down,” Sungwoon said. “I understand that it is… Suboptimal to say the least, but as of right now you oughtn’t work yourself up over it. This is not your world or your Kingdom to save. I imagine you dream of a revolution of sorts, but the revolution is not going to happen over night. You need to give them time.”

 

“Give who time, exactly?”

 

“The people of this Kingdom. Their lives are completely different than you would probably imagine. Life in the upper echelon is massively complex. They will not be content to change their entire perspective just because one concubine thinks it ought to be so.”

 

Ong crossed his arms, “And doing nothing will change what? Nothing.”

 

“Can we- can we save this talk for later. Those children really took it out of me I- I cannot deal with your bitterness right now. We’ve so many things to do, and our day was set back.”

 

“You needn’t deal with my ‘bitterness’ then,” Seongwoo said, his stone slightly caustic. “I can hunt down Guanlin and our guest. You touch base with our court performers.”

 

Sungwoon frowned but did not protest. “Fine, but- please meet with me later, though. For dinner. Alright?”

 

“I will see you dinnertime,” Ong said, splitting off from the older man into another section of the gardens.

 

* * *

 

“Oof-” Seongwoo bumped into something all of a sudden. He’d been musing about logistics and hadn’t even noticed anything in his path. He turned around to see what shrubbery he’d stumbled into, but his jaw dropped. He hadn’t collided with a bush; he’d collided with a person. Much to his dismay, the person was not one he particularly got along with either.

 

General Park Jihoon stood with crossed arms looking out into the garden. He remained completely still despite having just been shunted by the concubine. Seongwoo’s mouth flapped open and closed in an attempt to apologize, but a sound disturbed his thinking. 

 

A sniffle.

 

Seongwoo quirked an eyebrow and turned around. He quietly paced closer to the General’s side. The young man did not so much as stir. He merely looked on in the distance. Ong could see that tears had welled up in his eyes. His face looked tense, as if he’d been laboring to firmly hold his neutral expression. Seongwoo followed the man’s eyes and happened upon the subject of his observation. In the distance, a familiar figure walked alongside a not so familiar one. Unmistakable, the General’s tall, slender concubine walked alongside the boy he’d been tasked with showing around: Yoo Seonho. 

 

He’d arrived earlier that morning, and the two older concubines thought it appropriate that the chick concubine show the sweet flowerbud of a boy around. Why such a thing caused Jihoon such dismay, Seongwoo did not know. Nor did he want to. The concubine did not feel confident he could approach the situation appropriately. He moved to turn around and leave the man be, but suddenly the General spoke.

 

“Seongwoo,” Jihoon regarded Seongwoo with a sideways glance.

 

“General Park,” Seongwoo replied with a courteous bow, “My utmost apologies for disturbing you. If you would so kindly excuse me-”

 

“Do you know what our gap is?” Jihoon asked suddenly. His voice sounded thick.

 

Seongwoo hated the General with a passion - and the General hated him. The two had maintained a mutual agreement of civility while both being acutely aware that they hated each other. Neither crossed the other’s path often because they didn’t need to; and, they both liked it that way. Ong wished he could tell the man to fuck off. He would have loved to have done so, even if politely.

 

His conscience nagged him relentlessly to do otherwise. Though the concubine would have liked to have put up a fight against his good nature, he couldn't. His instincts commanded him by a simple principle: if you see someone in need of help, you help them. Even if that person is a bastard warlord with a grudge.

 

Trying not to sound too irked, Seongwoo responded, “What gap?”

 

“The gap between Guanlin and I,” Jihoon said. He didn’t look at the concubine. “Our age gap. Do you know what that is?”

 

“Is it… Wide?”

 

“Two.”

 

“What?”

 

“Our age difference is two years, concubine.”

 

Seongwoo’s eyes widened and his jaw opened wide, “Two years between you two!?” He tried not to sound too shocked. He looked at the General again and pictured him next to Guanlin. It was not as if Park Jihoon came off as old, but compared to Guanlin, the two seemed decades apart. The General had crossed the continent, conquering territories, taking lives. Guanlin scribbled hearts in the margins of his notes when he studied. 

 

It terrified Seongwoo to realize that the man who had taken over half the continent was younger than he. Park Jihoon had gained a reputation for being one of the most accomplished tacticians and cunning champions of his time and he hadn’t been on earth two decades. Seongwoo had assumed the man to at least be of twenty years of age, but to be so close to Guanlin meant he was eighteen at the oldest. It made Ong’s heart sink.

 

“Only two years yet… I feel we’re worlds apart,” Jihoon lamented aloud. “Things I once held dear… They are beginning to slip through my fingers. I can only hold onto so much.”

 

Ong rolled his eyes, “Perhaps your issue lies in the fact that you hold on too tightly. Try relinquishing your grasp a little. You may find that life will be easier that way.”

 

The General derided, “Let go?” He shook his head, “That is the last thing I need to be doing. I must hold onto what I cherish with all my might. How else am I to keep it safe? Figures a whore would give such stupid advice.”

 

Seongwoo glowered at the young General. His temper flared, but he kept it in check, merely firing back with words and not blows.

 

“I used to believe that the courtiers avoided you because you intimidated them. I’ve come to realize that they actually do so because you are a controlling prick,” He began marching off angrily.

 

“Actually- wait,” Jihoon called after Seongwoo. Shocked, Seongwoo stopped. The General sighed, he looked like the mere prospect of speaking to the concubine made him miserable. “Stay. Listen, please.”

 

“Have you more insults for me? Or have we met our quota for the amount of times you want to call me some variant of a whore today?”

 

The General sighed with a frown; he struggled to maintain eye contact as he spoke, “It is no secret that you and I do not see eye to eye.”

 

“That is an incredible understatement.”

 

Jihoon scowled at him, but despite years of being hardened from battle, he still looked adorable. If only slightly. He let his displeased expression communicate his irateness as he kept speaking.

 

“You and I have little in common but we do share one thing: we both love Guanlin.”

 

Seongwoo’s lips pressed into a thin line. He could concede that the man was, in fact, right about that. He viewed Guanlin as a little brother. 

 

Begrudgingly, he concurred, “I suppose you’re right. What of it?”

 

“That boy- I do not trust him. It makes me uncomfortable to see Guanlin alone with a commoner like that. I am busy, but you are… Well I assume you have ample time. I believe it would lend us both peace of mind if you were to keep an eye on him- on them. Who knows what that boy could drag my Guanlin into.”

 

“I- What? Wh- Please, clarify, General Park. Are you to tell me that- that Yoo Seonho worries you?”

 

“Is that his name?”

 

“Yes that is his name that- it matters not. That boy is about the same age as Guanlin. He is common, yes, but from a good family as far as I know. Guanlin will manage.”

 

“I do not trust him. The poisonous creatures are often the most beautiful,” Jihoon pointedly side eyed Seongwoo.

 

“You’re paranoid.”

 

“I care about Guanlin. I thought you did too.”

 

“I do!”

 

“Yet you seem completely fine watching him hand in hand with some- some stranger!”

 

“That stranger is a sweet, innocent young boy. I worry more seeing him with a murderer like you!”

 

“I work to protect this Kingdom- and him!”

 

“Is that what you call it?”

 

“If you will not help me, I shall have guards watch over him.”

 

“You know what your problem is, General?” Seongwoo said contemptuously.

 

“Please inform me. I’m eager to know the opinion of a whore,” Jihoon spit back. The concubine smiled wryly.

 

“You realize that you happily have a ‘whore’ of your own, do you not?”

 

“How dare you speak of Guanlin that way-”

 

“See- That is what I am speaking of! That right there! How is it you can so easily ignore one person’s reality yet condemn someone in the exact same situation.”

 

“You’re comparing yourself to my Guanlin?” Jihoon chuckled, “You are delusional. He is pure of heart, body and soul. You? You are rotten.”

 

“How can you say that?!” Seongwoo threw his hands up, “You do not know anything about me. Anything!”

 

“I know enough! I see the way you look at your Master, and I’ve seen your influence on him. You’re a silver tongued harlot and I know it’s only a matter of time before he does something terrible under your influence.”

 

“I- What?!” It was Seongwoo’s turn to laugh. He nearly collapsed with how hard it shook him. Such allegations, such power ascribed to him, he found it unfathomable that someone would genuinely believe such a thing. “Me?” He said when he seized control of himself, “Me? I- I haven’t done anything to your precious Daniel. I cannot control his actions or- or sway him as you so wish to think.” 

 

In truth, Seongwoo knew his words were not entirely genuine. He knew very well that he held a certain power of Daniel, but the semblance of control he had over the man was pitiful. It was downright an illusion. He hardly considered giving the man a hard-on worth any consideration.

 

Jihoon retorted,“He’s been acting differently ever since-”

 

“Stop deluding yourself, General. You and I both know you are smarter than that,” Seongwoo cut him off bitter. Jihoon’s mouth snapped shut and he clenched a fist. The concubine continued speaking despite the increasing chance of their altercation becoming physical. “The so called ‘power’ I hold over your King only influences one very particular part of him. You just despise it. You despise me because of it, and you refuse to believe that your innocent, sweet King could possibly possess lust. At least…” Seongwoo looked down at the General with as much visible condescension as he could muster, “Lust for someone other than yourself.”

 

The General’s hand shot up and took a fistful of Seongwoo’s shirt. He pulled the concubine closer, his entire body shaking with rage. Roaring fury ignited in the General’s dark eyes, and for a moment Ong feared he’d taken his personal safety for granted. However, the fire in the other man's eyes faded. His clenched jaw loosened, and his grip relinquished. Wetness pooled in his eyes once again; he appeared defeated.

 

“The truth hurts, doesn’t it?” Seongwoo asked as the man let go of his shirt. “Of course, what mind would you pay my words? I’m just a whore, right?” Jihoon looked as if he wanted to respond badly, yet no response came. The concubine continued speaking, “I’m a whore, but Guanlin is precious. I’m a ‘silver-tongued harlot’ while King Daniel is your beloved. Black, white. Light, dark. That’s how you see the world, isn’t it? People you like: they are good. Cherished. Loved. Protected. Then there are people like me: people you don’t like. They’re bad, evil… Need to be destroyed- am I- am I getting this right?”

 

The General remained fixed in place. He looked furious, and tears threatened to fall out of his eyes. The man almost looked lost to Seongwoo. General Park Jihoon was, after all, a fighter. Surely he wanted to fight back. Unfortunately, their battle was one of wits and not brute strength. Seongwoo guessed that the General had not been as well prepared for that.

 

“Just admit it already,” Seongwoo demanded. He thought that rendering the General speechless and on the brink of tears would have felt more satisfying than it had. “Admit it!”

 

“What, precisely, is it you wish me to admit?” Jihoon asked through gritted teeth. He crossed his arms indignantly.

 

Seongwoo bit his lip in an attempt to curb his own irritation, “Admit you despise me because I’m fucking the King,” It was a lie (or, at the very least, an exaggeration), but in no way did it diminish the concubine’s point. “Why can’t you just take responsibility for your narrow-mindedness? All you do is look at someone and think: black, white, black, white- You refuse to even consider the humanity that a person possesses. You think your little Guanlin is so innocent? Because let me tell you, his eagerness for you is often not as pure as I’m sure you’d like to think. And your King? Your- your Daniel?” Seongwoo chuckled, “You insult your intelligence by insisting him incapable of impure thoughts.”

 

Jihoon’s body shook. His face scrunched a bit, and he swallowed. For a second, Seongwoo thought he’d driven the man mad. The concubine watched on as the General shuddered and bit his lip. Just as Seongwoo readied himself to dash toward the infirmary, the other man let out a sound.

  
A laugh.

 

First one, then another. And another. And another. He laughed and laughed and laughed. Tears poured out of his eyes and he bent over in exertion. When his fit had finally subsided enough to allow speaking, he stood upright again.

 

“That is absolutely rich,” General Park said, “Coming from you.” He sniffled and wiped a tear. Finally, he sighed, and his voice stopped quivering from his laughing. “I needed that. Thank you.”

 

“That point utterly flew over your head, didn’t it?” Seongwoo asked, incredibly unamused.

 

“Oh, no,” Jihoon shook his head, “I received the message loud and clear.” He looked the other in the eye and grinned, “You are a hypocrite who is projecting his own jarring flaws onto me.”

  
“What?!”

 

“Spare me your ignorance. Can you not see? You do exactly the same thing you accuse me of!”

 

“Wh- I do not. You’re delusional.”

 

“The only delusional person here is you. For example: you hate me. Why?”

 

“Need I list the reasons?”

 

“No. Because there is only one. I am dark. Black. Evil. You assigned that role to me the second you first saw me.”

 

“For good reason-”

 

“I saved your life.”

 

“You what?! You ruined it!” Seongwoo raised his voice.

 

“Do you know what would have happened back there had I not intervened? Would you prefer to have died?”

 

“I would have preferred for your Kingdom not to invade every piece of land on the damn continent!”

 

“Wh- Oh, of course yes,” Jihoon facetiously softened his tone, “I am so sorry. Why did I not think of that? Let me just dismantle the efforts of nearly a century of our Kingdom’s efforts laid out by our forefathers.”

 

“Tradition is a lazy excuse for tyranny.”

 

“Mhm,” Jihoon completely disregarded the statement, “And I am an evil person for acting on that, right, yes. Of course.”

 

“You snatched me up to be gift to your King and have the audacity of being galled that I dislike you?! You- you looked at me and thought ‘oh that’s pretty, King Daniel will like it’. How the  _ fuck  _ am I to feel about that? Pleased?”

 

General Park looked at Seongwoo with a straight face and said flatly,“I saw a man stand up for someone who had no power to do so for themselves. I felt… I felt different that day. I wanted to do something good for- for once. I saved his life the only way I could think of while still maintaining respect and control over my men. I gave him over to the kindest human I know thinking that he’d be sent off to do some lackadaisical castle job. He wasn’t supposed to want you.” The concubine took a step back, shaking his head. No, Seongwoo thought, that couldn’t possibly be the truth. 

 

Jihoon spoke, his words steeped in regret, “Now I have to live with the fact that I did not let you into this castle- into the King’s life. I invited you into it. I brought you here, wrapped up in ribbon and silk. Needless to say I’ve learned my lesson about mercy.”

 

Seongwoo shook his head, “No.” Was all he could manage to say at first. He took pause before repeating, “No. You’re- you’re saving face.”

 

“And what incentive do I have to try recovering my reputation with the likes of you? You’re the deluded one among us two. Admit it,” The General’s voice upturned into a mocking tone at his last two words, a nod to the concubine’s insistences prior.

 

“You’re a liar.”

 

“Your stubbornness only proves my point.”

 

“I am stubborn? For what? For disliking the highest nobles of the Kingdom that destroyed me life?”

 

General Park scoffed, “What life? You cannot possibly tell me you lived a nicer life in that derelict village than you do here. You eat fine foods and wear beautiful clothes. People would literally kill to fill your shoes. Concubines live dreamy lives.”

  
“Dreamy lives? Dreamy lives?! You threatened your supposedly adored concubine. What about that is dreamy?”

 

“Me? Threaten Guanlin? Wh- I never!”

 

“You- you did just- at- the villa you-”

 

“And when, exactly, did I say I was going to hurt him?”

 

“You implied it, heavily. Don’t play dumb.”

 

“You’re the only stupid one here. Of course I implied it. I wanted to get under your skin. I would never hurt him. Of course you wouldn’t believe that because I’m an evil person, right? I’m evil and bad, which you decided long ago. And you’re an idiot who can’t call a person’s bluff.”

 

“You are…” Seongwoo huffed; he pinched the bridge of his nose, “You are impossible. A stone wall would more skillfully grasp what I am saying than you.”

 

“A stone wall seems like an adequate conversation for you given your intelligence.”

 

“I would prefer speaking to a stone wall. At least walls maintain some sort of stability. You seem to flippantly decide the level of sanity you wish to show at any given moment.”

 

“God I hope you-” Jihoon’s attention was roused by people in the distance. Guanlin’s unmistakably lanky figure waved at the pair enthusiastically; the young vocalist, Seonho, stood next to him. “Smile and wave,” The General said, leaning toward Ong as he followed his own instructions. Not eager to let on that the two had been having a squabble, the concubine played along.

 

“They look cute together, don’t they?” Seongwoo antagonized the other.

 

“Of course they do, Guanlin can make anyone look cute with his mere presence. Even you,” Jihoon said back in a saccharine tone. “They’re still looking- why are they still looking?”

 

“Oh- They’re coming over here,” Seongwoo let out a fake laugh as the young boys paced toward them hand in hand. “They are just precious. I cannot wait for those two to elope and live a happy life across the continent.”

 

“And I cannot wait for your loud mouth to piss off the wrong person, inevitably resulting in your slow, agonizing death.” The General’s smile didn’t falter one bit as he whispered his wishful threat. 

 

“I imagine you will die long before I on the fields of battle,” Seongwoo replied, cheerily waving at the boys getting closer.

 

“Out of the two of us obviously you will be the first to die. Probably due to suffocation. By cocks.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get assassinated long before that. You needn’t worry, I will take excellent care of Daniel in your absence.”

 

“Not if I- Guanlin!” Jihoon immediately halted his threatening to regard his concubine who had walked into earshot. 

 

“Master! Seongwoo!” Guanlin greeted the two ecstatically. A wide smile crossed his face, and he bounced up and down with joy. He finally let go of Seonho’s hand to gesture to the General and the concubine standing in front of him. “You- You two are! You’re- you’re getting along!” 

 

Both the General and the concubine’s eyes widened and they exchanged glances. Seongwoo was the first to manage words.

 

“Yes! That is… What we are doing,” Seongwoo laughed. He could nearly feel the aura of the man next to him tense with gall. 

 

“This is like a dream! Two of my favorite people,” The chick concubine beamed, “Finally coming around. What are you two doing walking in the gardens?”

 

“We were talking about… Security! For the festival,” Jihoon replied. “And your friend is- is so funny. You are so funny. You could have been a jester in another life!” He grinned at Ong. Ong grinned back and donated another laugh to the cause of their deception.

 

“That is wonderful!” The young boy smiled. The boy next to him smiled politely, but did not say anything. He shuffled his weight from one foot to another.

 

“Have you introduced our guest to General Park, Guanlin?” Seongwoo asked.

 

“Wh- Oh, I haven’t. Master, this is the honorable Yoo Seonho. He is a guest at court and will be singing at the upcoming festival. He’s- he’s around my age.” Guanlin said.

 

The General’s fake smile flickered slightly, but he kept cool, “General Park Jihoon,” The man bowed shallowly, “It is nice to meet you, Seonho.”

 

“Pardon my rudeness,” Seongwoo cut in, “However, I must excuse myself. It appears my time here has run longer than expected. I have an appointment with the King that I must be off to. Please, excuse me.” He dismissed himself with a bow. The meeting was an utter lie, but he wanted to see General Park squirm one last time before departing. He made sure to look Jihoon in the eye as he gave a parting smile. He tried not to let the man’s comments sink beneath his skin. 

 

Seongwoo could not deny that the warlord had a way with words. 

 

* * *

 

Sungwoon threw his cards down dramatically and slid down his chair. 

 

“My hand!” Seongwoo laughed. He felt the need to celebrate winning the hand and did so by getting up from his seat and doing a wiggly dance. 

  
Despite doing little physically taxing work, Seongwoo had felt exhausted after he’d departed the gardens. His conversation with General Park left him feeling vexed and drained. That wasn’t to mention his encounter with his least favorite Duke. Even after a meal and a few chapters of a story anthology, the ache of irritation still lingered. He’d realized he needed to do something when he’d noticed that he reread the same sentence eight times.  He tracked down his partner and dragged him out of the study he’d been using for a night of leisure.

 

Sungwoon seemed equally as tired, and, in lieu of their tense exchange before parting, Ong thought they needed time to unwind. The two of them had commandeered another study, asking a servant to light the fireplace when they’d found it. Ong had collected the wine and Sungwoon the cards. Nearly two carafes of wine in, Sungwoon had lost his hand of alouette for the umpteenth time. 

 

“Stop shaking your ass at my misfortune!” Sungwoon whined.

 

“But it’s fun,” Seongwoo replied.

 

“Understandable. Carry on,” The older man waved like an old King would to a court entertainer. Ong giggled and continued his exaggerated celebrations for a few more moments before returning to his chair.

 

“Alright, one more hand then I win,” Seongwoo said giddily.

 

“How do you know you’ll win this one?”

 

“I’ve won the past seven hands.”

 

“Exactly! Luck dictates that it is my turn to win. So, I am going to win,” Sungwoon sat up more straight, filled with determination.

 

“Is that how it works?”

 

“Yes. It is. I am positive.”

 

“If you are so sure then, let’s make a wager of it.”

  
“Wh- A wager? Now I’m interested. What is it you want to wager? What is it we have to wager?”

 

“Simple. The loser has to reveal a truth about themselves.”

 

“Ah, I see what this is,” The older man nodded in a sagely manner, “You’re not done nosing about. I feel as if you have been here so long. What is there left that you do not know?”

 

“Well, if you win, you can ask me and find out,” Ong smirked. 

 

“Alright, fine. Deal the cards.”

 

Seongwoo did just that, swiftly slapping nine cards in front of Seongwoo on the desk they’d been using as a card table. Luckily for the two of them, the rules of alouette were simple. Nine cards, each drawn against one another in a trick. The highest card was the winning card. The person who’d won the most tricks won the hand. Even their brains, dulled from alcohol consumption and exertion, could comprehend such rules.

 

“Ha!” Sungwoon said as they revealed their cards for the first trick. His nine trumped Seongwoo’s two with ease. He relished in his victory for approximately thirty seconds before proceeding to lose the next five.

  
Seongwoo leapt up to do his silly victory dance once again, and Sungwoon sunk down so low in his chair that he completely fell off. With lagging reflexes, the older concubine slowly climbed back onto his chair.

 

He huffed loudly, tipping the chalice he held to his lips for a long duration before speaking again, “Alright. You won fair and square. What do you want to know? Of course, I have a feeling I know what you’re going to ask.”

 

Seongwoo smirked giddily, immensely satisfied with himself, “Do you? You never told me how you got here, or why you are able to leave willingly! I want to know. Is there a sort of tenure once can reach as a concubine or were you teasing me that time?”

 

Sungwoon’s face scrunched into a look of befuddlement, “That time? What time?”

 

“You lectured me about giving my Master kindness, then proceeded to inform me that you can leave this palace whenever you desire. How?”

 

The older one rolled his eyes, “Sharp memory, you have. I knew you’d ask about Jisung and me, it just never occurred to me that you’d honed in on something so specific.”

 

“Is it a personal thing? Is it Jisung’s kindness that gives you an out? Now that I think more about it, I know little of concubinery outside of my personal conditions…”

 

“Alright, one question at a time. What do you want?”

 

Ong grinned, holding his chalice up with a flourish, “Tell me why you are allowed to come and go as you please. Why- why is it your Master has given you such agency?”

 

Sungwoon snorted, “Master!” He grinned, “Master Jisung,” he emphasized every syllable dramatically. “What a strange thing it is.”

 

“You’re dallying.”

 

“I- I am not. I think… I think to explain my situation it’s best to start from the beginning. That’s easiest, really.”

 

“Oh? Well, I have no wish to delay you any further. Please, tell me all about you and Advisor Yoon; from the beginning.”

 

Sungwoon sighed, sitting up slightly more upright; his words slurred ever so slightly as he recounted the tale of his memories:

 

“It was… Oh, goodness,” He chuckled, “Eight years ago we met.”

 

“Eight years?!” Seongwoo’s jaw dropped open and his eyes widened. “Wait- How- how old are y-”

 

“Stop talking,” Sungwoon cut him off and continued, “Eight years ago. I’m not from the palace, in case you hadn’t figured. I hail from a city a couple days ride away from Castle Jeon. The old capital- before the Jeon family built the castle here. They isolated themselves saying it was more ‘secure’; I believe they just did it to be uppity- that’s- that’s digression. I grew up in the old capital. As I said, busy place. Lots of people. Some richer than others. I- I understand you did not ask for my life story, but I promise there is some relevance here.

 

“My grandfather had a farm on the outskirts. I’d run around the fields as a child driving him mad. Of course, I had to grow up quickly and help him. Though he was determined I would take over the farm when I got older, I had other ideas about my life. I wanted to learn a trade, to live in the city…”

 

Seongwoo watched, pensive, as the older man told his story. Never in thousands of years could he picture the man trudging through muddy fields. He struggled to imagine the man in any other role than the one that had been cemented in his mind for months. The concubine almost felt guilty for not wondering about the person Sungwoon had been before he’d come to the Castle. Part of him assumed that his mentor had lived there his whole life; he had always shown incredible knowledge regarding the Kingdom’s history, etiquette, and traditions. For months, Seongwoo had fought for people to see him as more than a concubine, a human. Yet he hadn’t even extended such a courtesy to one of his closest allies.

 

Sungwoon continued, “I begged and begged and begged. At first grandfather was stern, resilient. I heard ‘no’ more times than I could possibly recall. However… As I got older, his rejections grew less and less inspirited. He began to yield a bit, and finally, he let me take up an apprenticeship.

 

“An accountant further in the city ended up taking me on. He was stern but kind. I think he liked me, I was decent with numbers and eager to please. He’d put me on menial tasks and let me watch him do ledgers. My life went on peacefully like that for a couple of years. I’d help my grandfather with the farm half the day and run to my apprenticeship the other. I was probably heading toward a nice life, the kind of life my grandfather wanted for me,” The edges of his lips dropped scarcely.

 

“What happened?” Seongwoo asked; he hushed his voice, “Were… Were you taken?”

 

Sungwoon let out a small laugh, “Not by physical force,” he continued, “A few years into my apprenticeship, my mentor started to trust me more. I was allowed to handle a few books myself and I tended the office when he was off on errands. One day I was watching the office on my own. I recall, it was quite a hot summer. He had such long hair back then…” His voice took on a slightly wistful tone as he began drowning in memories, “My Jisung, that is.” He took another swig of wine.

 

“I knew he was rich, of noble blood. His skin glowed like only noble skin does- you know, when you’re well fed and such- and his clothes were fine. He was so, so handsome. I remember my hands shook as I handed him the ledger he’d been tasked with fetching. He proceeded to complain that he’d been sent to stay at some manse in the city for an apprenticeship… Education… Thing- I’m not sure. Noble children are shipped off all the time. I imagine his parents were sick of him and sent him off under the guise of learning some skill.”

 

Ong chuckled, taking a sip of his wine, “How did this lead into your life now?”

 

“Well, he whined about how he’d been sent to such a derelict place, and he carried on and on about how much better the castle was. He wouldn’t stop talking about how boring and awful city life was, and how disgusting the people were…”

 

“So he chose you as his concubine so you could entertain him?”

 

“What? No, he was a total brat so I punched him in the face.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yes. We got into a bit of a scrap, and, well, I came home a bit bruised. Grandfather was very confused as to how I got injured handling ledgers. I felt too strangely embarrassed of the situation, so I told him I’d fallen on the way home. Of course, I readied myself for being ejected from my apprenticeship the second my mentor returned and learned what I’d done. However… When I arrived the next day- still minding the place alone- Jisung was waiting for me. The bastard apologized. He asked me to show him what was so great about city life.

 

“Now… A dowdy thing like me? Getting to take a noble around? I jumped on the chance eagerly. So we spent our summer together running around in the evenings. I’d finish at the accounting office and he’d be there, waiting.” A tiny grin flickered on Sungwoon’s mouth, “We made so many memories: running around, drinking, going to festivals, looking at the stars together… At first, grandfather was  _ not  _ happy that I started returning home later and later. He softened up a bit after awhile. I think he thought I was seeing a girl. He always wanted me to have children,” His smile faltered slightly. 

 

“How surprised he was when I brought Jisung one day. I was so… So scared to bring him to the farm. I’d never anticipated he’d want to know much about my personal life, but… He kept prodding. To be honest, I was a bit ashamed, too. A nobleman on- on my family’s farm? I could hardly believe it myself, but… one day I brought him home with me.

 

“I don’t think grandfather disliked him. Not- not profoundly. At first, he was quite wary. Understandable, of course. He probably wondered why the hell a high ranked man like him would want to spend time with me. He was a bit suspicious, too. He’d tell me to be careful, that nobles always have an agenda, that they just use people like us, but…”

 

Sungwoon sighed, laughing shyly, “We fell in love. He was the sun and I, his stars. As much as we tried denying it, we couldn’t turn away something so real. It was such a beautiful summer… Of course, all summers must come to an end.”

 

Seongwoo hadn’t realized that he’d scooted to the edge of his seat. His heart sunk as he heard Sungwoon’s recollections of his bittersweet summer love. Things were starting to make sense to Ong as he learned more and more about his friend.

 

“Jisung… He had to go back to the castle. As his departure drew nearer, he started acting strangely. I thought my grandfather was right, that he’d been using me, and was ready to dispose of me but unwilling to deliver the message. I confronted him, readying myself to be rejected, and he gave me this,” Sungwoon suddenly reached beneath the neckline of his shirt; he withdrew a chain that Seongwoo had never seen before. Hanging from the simple but fine silver chain was a golden ring. Ong made out faint lettering inside the gold band and leaned closer to read it:

 

“My whole heart for my whole life.”

 

“Oh my God,” Seongwoo’s jaw dropped.

 

“I- He-” Sungwoon’s composure started to gradually crack and crumble, “He knew- We both knew… We both knew that we could not be wed. A- A farm boy- a hopeful apprentice- and a man of noble blood?” He shook his head, “Still, he proposed. I became so aware that I would probably have never seen him again had- had we gone on like that. And the thought of living a life without Jisung in it was-  _ is _ unbearable. I love him so much,” Tears welled up in the older man’s eyes. Seongwoo felt his heart shatter for the man, and he scooched his chair closer so he could give him a comforting half-hug.

 

Sungwoon carried onward; his voice sounded thicker, “We tried to say goodbye, we really did. We spent a few days apart, thinking that breaking off prior to him departing would make it easier. It didn’t. We barely lasted those few days before running to one another again. That’s when I told him my idea.”

 

True realization dawned on Seongwoo’s face, “You suggested you become a concubine. You left your life behind to be with him.”

 

Sungwoon nodded, “Precisely.” He fidgeted with his chalice, tears threatening to fall, “At first he refused. He told me he loved me too much to let me choose the life of a concubine; he said we could find another way, or he could buy land close by to see me. I refused his refusal. I told him I was doing it, and I could be his concubine, or someone else’s in the castle,” He laughed wryly. “When he finally accepted, it was mere days before we were to leave. I rushed to tell my grandfather, telling him I would work in the castle under Jisung. I didn’t even tell him I was going to be a concubine, but- He… He didn’t approve.

 

“He wanted me to stay at home and take over the farm, to marry and be by his side. He just wanted me to live a simple, wholesome life. We argued. We’re both stubborn as hell, you know. I- I told him I love Jisung. He insisted that I was just going to be used up and thrown out when he tired of me. When I told him I was going, and that there was nothing he could do to change my mind, he...” Sungwoon’s breath wavered, he sniffled and a tear dropped down his cheek, “He said not to come back- that’s when I left. That was it. I wasn’t welcome there anymore…” He shook, and another tear fell, “He said that I wasn’t his grandson anymore- that he didn’t know who I was...” He threw his face in his hands and his body quaked with quiet sobs.

 

Seongwoo felt a wave of guilt wash over him; he felt awful for making Sungwoon relive something so painful. The younger man felt at a loss, all he could think to do was hug the other tightly and rub his shoulder as a gesture of comfort.

 

When the bulk of the sobbing subsided, Sungwoon wiped his tears and sat up straight. With a sniffle, he spoke once more.

 

“That, Seongwoo, is why I can leave whenever I want. Because I came here by choice to be with the man I love. When I told Jisung what had happened, he was so sweet… He said that if I ever wanted to go back, he would do everything in he could to help me.”

 

Ong nodded, absentmindedly saying,“So you truly haven’t heard from your grandfather since coming here? Is- is he-” He clamped his mouth shut upon realizing how insensitive the inquiry was.

 

Sungwoon shook his head and sniffed again, “He is alive and quite well, if that’s what you’re curious about. At least, that’s what my messengers tell me. Perhaps they just say that to comfort me…”

 

“Your messengers?”

 

“Yes, my messengers. I, um- Every month I send messengers with a letter to my grandfather. I tell him how life is, ask him how he is, and send some money. I keep hoping one day that he will respond, but… As I said, he is stubborn. He probably hates me. I was- I was so immature. I left everything behind and- and thinking back on it… I was probably everything to him. He- he raised me and I just- I just...” Sungwoon shook his head.“I love Jisung dearly and I don’t regret coming to this castle for a second, but… I regret losing my grandfather.”

 

Seongwoo frowned. He felt responsible for the steep downturn in the other’s mood. He reached for Sungwoon’s hand, giving it a tight, reassuring squeeze. 

 

“If he is still breathing, there is still hope,” Seongwoo said. “He may not contact you but perhaps one day you can go to him. Both you and Jisung. If you show him that your love has endured all this time, maybe he will see that he is genuine.”

 

“He’d probably tell me to fuck right off,” Sungwoon punctuated the thought with a gulp of wine. 

 

“At least then you’d be speaking,” Seongwoo said. The older concubine frowned and shrugged. He leaned back in his seat, silently drinking out of the pewter chalice he held. Ong took it as a signal that conversation regarding Sungwoon’s personal life was over. The younger man didn’t mind in the least.

 

The pair lapsed into a comfortable silence. They both felt content to let the pops and cracks of the fireplace fill the room. Part of Seongwoo felt inclined to ask more. Realizing that Jisung and Sungwoon viewed one another as equals (if only behind closed doors) put things into place for the younger man. It explained his relatively blithe attitude and how he’d gotten almost complete freedom to do what he wanted. He could speak almost freely to his “Master”, even in front of the King. Ong wondered if Daniel knew. The concubine assumed that Daniel and Jisung were close; he wondered what his majesty thought. Did he approve? Did he even learn about it right away? What did he think of Sungwoon now? The ruler had spoken rather highly of Sungwoon earlier; that implied that the man had kept a fairly open mind regarding such things.

 

Seongwoo glanced into his chalice at the dwindling drops of wine remaining. He hoped that, perhaps, his buzzed mind could divine some sort of answer from the dark liquid. It did not. Though the silence by no means bothered Seongwoo, he felt urged to distract himself lest his mind wander to strange places (or he falls asleep).

 

“A deep rose color,” Ong blurted out. 

 

“What?” Sungwoon snorted at the seemingly random utterance.

 

“For the peach tone. I think a deep, warm rose color would compliment it well.”

 

Sungwoon looked over at Seongwoo with raised eyebrows. Though his eyes were still red around the edges, his lips upturned in a grin. He shook his head and let out a chuckle.

 

“Excellent idea. We can tell the textiles people first thing tomorrow,” Was all he muttered.

 

“Perfect. Great meeting. Very productive,” Ong joked.

 

“Indeed,” The older concubine replied, “Now I believe it is time for this meeting to adjourn.” With visible effort, Sungwoon slowly roused his laggard body out of his chair. He stumbled a bit but managed to save himself before taking any tumbles. Seongwoo wordlessly extended his hand, shaking it in the other’s direction. Sungwoon rolled his eyes but took the hand, yanking Ong upwards.

 

“There’s still wine left,” Ong mumbled, looking down at the half-full carafe. Sungwoon groaned. He reluctantly took it off of the table and took a generous gulp before handing it to Seongwoo.

 

“Finish it off,” He ordered the younger man. 

 

In no condition to say no, he took the carafe from his partner in planning and tilted it to his lips.

 

The two slowly began their journey back to their bedchambers. As it typically did, alcohol mixed and melded the last few details and events of the night together. Seongwoo recalled little of note before he wound up in front of his bedchamber door once more. He found it almost impressive how adeptly alcohol warped time and space. He clumsily struggled with the doorknob before finally managing to enter.

 

It is likely that one would describe his motion of crossing the threshold as “falling” moreso than walking.From his spot on the floor, the concubine kicked his door closed. He’d intended to do more, but the earth’s sudden increase in rotation kept him planted firmly in place. 

 

“Seongwoo?” A soft voice came from the partition between his room and the other connected. Ong felt immense regret for his state in lieu of the new development in his life. He started trying to come up with a story that would not sound completely irresponsible and immature. “Are you okay?” Daniel asked. He wore his typical sleeping clothes (that is to say: next to nothing).

 

“I- I apologize. I fell.”

 

“So I can see,” The King approached his concubine, full of worry, “Are you alright? Can you walk?”

 

“Yes, I can,” Seongwoo said. A prolonged pause followed his statement. It took a few minutes for Seongwoo to notice the expectant look on the King’s eyes. “Oh you- you wanted me to-” He attempted to get up, but his body struggled to cooperate. After effortful labor, he managed to stand up, though he wobbled slightly. 

 

Drunken euphoria fizzled out, making way for shame. He bore no particular reservations about getting drunk, it was a fairly common past time. However, something about letting Daniel see him in such a state made him feel ashamed. He realized his shame didn’t stem from being drunk necessarily, but from having allowed things to bother him to the point that he felt inclined to drink so heavily. He thought more highly of himself, and part of him knew that he wanted Daniel to think that, too. He’d always prided himself on being able to handle anything that life dared throw at him; yet, he’d allowed himself to be whittled down to such a pathetic state. 

 

Suddenly, Daniel rushed to catch Seongwoo, looping an arm around his shoulder. Seongwoo looked at the man with surprise. He hadn’t even realized that he’d been falling. His ears started turning red. The ground disappeared from beneath Seongwoo’s feet, and he feared that he’d started falling once more. His majesty scooped his concubine up into his arms, holding him around his shoulders and beneath the knees. He walked the short distance to the concubine’s bed with ease.

 

“I’m sorry,” Seongwoo muttered. Daniel gently sat the man on his bed before replying.

 

“You needn’t apologize. It happens to everyone. Boots?” His majesty kneeled in front of where Ong sat, gesturing to the boots the man still wore. Seongwoo looked down; initially, he’d been confused, but he realized what the man meant. The concubine kicked off his boots clumsily. The King helped slide them off and set them aside. “Can you manage to unbutton that right now?” He asked, pointing to the buttoned jerkin the concubine wore.

 

Seongwoo looked down at himself once more. He fingered the silver buttons of the black vest awkwardly, inwardly cursing at them. The soft chuckle he heard come from his majesty made his cheeks burn a brighter red than they already had before.

 

“May I?” Daniel gave Seongwoo an inquiring look. The concubine swallowed hard. He wanted to scoff at the idea, even to tell his highness to fuck off. He could bring himself to do neither. The man had literally dropped to his knees to help his own servant. Had Seongwoo been sober, he would have surely been able to fervently deny it. The alcohol running through his veins sung a different tune. It dictated that he needed help. And who was he to deny the beautiful, shirtless man in front of him who’d so graciously offered his assistance?

 

“You don’t need to,” Seongwoo protested weakly, “I can sleep with it on if need be, I-” Before he even had a chance to finish, Daniel had already stood up. The King closed the gap between them, and he focused his energy on undoing Seongwoo’s buttons one by one. The concubine couldn’t keep his eyes of his Master. His majesty ruler bit his lip in concentration, working diligently to undo each button with care. 

 

Goosebumps formed as cool air hit Seongwoo’s skin. Despite the cool air, waves of warmth continuously washed over Seongwoo, making him flush. Little inklings entered his ears as if the wine had personified and begun whispering ideas in his head. He pondered how he’d gone so long not noticing what nice hands Daniel had. The way his fingers slid around the embellished silver made him wonder how they would feel elsewhere. Daniel’s gaze floated up, meeting Seongwoo’s eyes, and the concubine’s heart did a flip. He wondered if the man could somehow read his thought. Their gazes remained tangled in one another for a few moments, but his highness did not stop his work. His tongue flicked out from between his lips for a second, and heat lapped in Seongwoo’s abdomen.

 

“Done,” Daniel said in a hushed voice. He tapped Seongwoo on the shoulder, and the other took the cue to shrug the jerkin off. “I ought to be the one apologizing,” He added.

 

“Hm?”

 

“I put a lot on your shoulders. Perhaps I shouldn’t have-”

 

“Stop,” Seongwoo cut his Master off. He certainly would have loved an apology, but not for what Daniel alluded to. “I can handle it.” Seongwoo effortfully articulated each syllable.

 

“I do not doubt that you can handle any challenge that comes your way. However, I wished for you to do more than ‘handle’ things. I wanted to give you something interesting, something challenging. Not taxing.” Daniel frowned, looking at the drunk concubine with concern.

 

Bitterness welled up inside of Seongwoo. Of course, he thought, the King wanted to give him a distraction. As if being kept busy would allow him to reach some sort of complacency with palace life. Suddenly, General Park’s words sounded out in his head: “You’re a stubborn hypocrite”. For a second, Seongwoo entertained the question: was the other man right? Was he not lending the King consideration out of spite? How clear was his judgment, truly, when regarding Daniel as a human? The concubine internally groaned. He could picture the other jeering him from over the King’s shoulder. The mental image of the General gave Ong a headache. The last thing he wanted was another voice plaguing his thoughts, taunting him, warping his perception. 

 

“Thank you,” The concubine finally managed to mutter. Alcohol and fatigue began dragging him beneath the veil of unconsciousness. His eyelids dipped every so slightly, and he yawned. “I- I should get some rest.”

 

“Yes, you should,” Daniel agreed. 

 

“And you as well,” Seongwoo replied. 

 

“R-right, of course,” The King said.

 

Silence quickly filled the space between them. Whether due to tiredness or drunkenness, Seongwoo struggled to find parting words. He knew he needed to dismiss the other, yet his brain completely drew blank. Daniel appeared equally as unwieldy with his own vocabulary, and their pause grew increasingly apparent. The oddity of their hesitance was not lost on Seongwoo. He knew he ought to dismiss his Master, yet he did not feel particularly inclined to do so. Dismissing his King meant dismissing the one effective distraction he had from the whirlwind of a day he’d had. 

 

It meant being alone with his thoughts again.

 

“Good night.” “Sleep well.” They both spouted words at the same time. 

 

“What?” “What was that?” They did it again. 

 

“I’m sorry.” “Sorry, I-”

 

The two locked eyes. Daniel pressed his lips together, likely trying to find polite words to say. Seongwoo, much less in command of his wits, snorted. The King’s polite facade cracked, and he let out a quiet laugh. 

 

Seongwoo laughed again, this time more loudly, and Daniel joined. Soon the raucous noise filled the concubine’s bedchamber. Their noses scrunched and chests heaved until they finally ran out of breath and calmness reigned once. Grinning ear to ear, with crescents for eyes, the King looked at his concubine adoringly.

 

He leaned down toward the man sitting on the bed and said, “Goodnight, Seongwoo.” Daniel planted a single, chaste kiss atop his concubine’s head before turning to depart. 

 

Dizzying warmth radiated from the spot, and before he could consciously react, the concubine’s arm shot out. He craved the feeling of that warmth again. Body acted without the consent of the mind, and Seongwoo yanked Daniel toward him, pressing his lips onto the other’s. White hot sparks exploded in Seongwoo’s chest. Breathing stopped, thinking stopped, moving stopped.

  
The world stopped.

 

Seongwoo wondered: what have I done?

 

His hand dropped from Daniel’s arm, moving to the man’s neck. He stroked circles idly as the their lips met one another for the first time. The two began shyly. Their motions were gentle as they became acquainted with the sensation of the other. Even though he’d been so bleary prior, everything felt impossibly sharp and clear to Seongwoo. Daniel’s lips felt even more heavenly than he’d imagined. They were warm and soft and plump. They moved gently against his own as if kindly asking him to open up, little by little.

 

The two separated short of breath.

 

Seongwoo didn’t know how long it had been. Seconds? Minutes even? Time didn’t exist. Nothing existed but the other. Their pupils locked, but no words came out. The concubine considered that, perhaps, he ought to say something. But what? Everything that logic and reason dictated told him that what he’d just done was vile and abominable. The more his wits begged him to stop, the more his soul resisted. His mind wanted to reprimand him, but his heart swelled and flitted about in such a way that nothing could tether it down. 

 

Daniel gasped and muttered a curse under his breath. He nibbled on his lower lip before diving back in to attack Seongwoo’s. Rational thought departed the concubine’s mind. He processed one thing and one thing only: want. Want. Want. Want. Want. Heat rippled throughout his body as he carnally drank in the sensation of Daniel’s lips on his own. Little mumbling moans dripped out from the cracks between their lips. 

 

Seongwoo’s tongue flicked out and ran across the King’s plush bottom lip. He closed his own around the other’s and sucked lightly, eliciting a low moan from the man he called Master. Feeling the vibration of the King’s throat against his mouth made tension coil inside of the concubine. Teeth clattered and tongues brushed, rapidly unraveling Seongwoo into a wanton mess. Alcohol only served to smudge sensations together as opposed to stifling them. Everything pooled into a slurry: his anxieties, tensions, fears, and physical sensations. Occasionally, between hitched breaths, flickers of sanity lit up the concubine’s brain. A brief instant of guilt or reservation would pass by; however, just as quickly as they arose, they were soon added to the compacting mass of pressure that so badly wanted to burst.

 

The two separated for a few moments, and Seongwoo thought that, perhaps, he could straighten himself. He wanted to catch his breath, to reassess himself, but the way Daniel looked at him rendered it impossible. His pupils caught the other’s, large and dark with desire. His well-toned chest heaved, and (much to Seongwoo’s distraction) his breeches did little to hide what was beneath. Seongwoo felt dizzy upon witnessing the sight. He wasn’t sure whether it was the wine or the fact that the majority of his blood flow had been directed below the waist. He didn’t care (that he knew to be a result of his consumption).

 

Daniel gingerly cupped Seongwoo’s face and went in to kiss him once more. His ministrations softened significantly, and he placed sweet kisses on Seongwoo’s cheek.

 

“Get some sleep,” He whispered, punctuating the statement with another kiss.

 

“What?” Seongwoo responded, dazed. Just seconds ago the man had been borderline brutalizing lips. Suddenly, his desire had changed? Exasperation sullied the lustful trance that had overtaken the concubine.

 

“It is late. We both need to rest.”

 

Seongwoo pinched the bridge of his nose. Humiliation quickly started to wash away any lingering buzz he’d had.

 

“Oh my God,” He muttered, “I am being rejected.” He laughed bitterly.

 

“Wh- Is that what you think?!”

 

“You are one of those types: the type that likes a challenge and grows bored the second they achieve their conquest.”   
  


“What? Seongwoo-”

 

“You just worked me down until you caught me in a compromising position. Then- then you swooped in all handsome and- mmf!”

 

Daniel swiftly cut off Seongwoo by pressing his lips against the other’s. Despite his anger, Seongwoo couldn’t help returning the kiss. He cursed his weakness.

 

“Seongwoo,” Daniel said softly, nuzzling the other. He took hold of his concubine’s wrist and guided the other’s hand to his abdomen. Slowly guiding it down, he continued, “How can you possibly doubt the genuinity of my desire for you.” He kissed Seongwoo again and brought the other’s hand to hover just above his erect cock, “I want you.”

 

Rushing blood distracted Seongwoo from conscious thought. Lewd visions swam in his head, but he didn’t dare do more than let his hand sit atop the other’s sleeping clothes. Even the brief contact made his body shudder.

 

“That is why I want you to rest now,” His master told him, “You are tired and drunk. Too much wine dulls the mind, and I do not want you to do anything that will cause you remorse. No matter how badly I want you,” He kissed the concubine again.

 

“I find your words somewhat contradictory with your actions,” Seongwoo replied. His bluntness made the King chuckle, and the man released his hold on the other’s wrist because of it. Seongwoo felt utterly and completely relieved. Not a single bit of him regretted the loss of contact. Not one. “I can take care of myself, you know. I don’t need you to tell me what I will and won’t regret.” Ong huffed. Daniel drew back and looked at the concubine with fondness. He grinned from ear to ear.

 

“I understand that.” He caressed Seongwoo’s cheek as he talked, letting his thumb rest on the concubine’s distinctive birthmarks, “I also am aware of what I will regret. After all, alcohol dulls the senses, and-”

 

Seongwoo scoffed, “Have you gone delirious?”

 

The King laughed. With a smirk on his face, he leaned in close and whispered something in Seongwoo’s ears. The concubine felt heat sear his cheeks and sting his crotch. Daniel looked irritatingly satisfied with himself as he backed off. 

 

With one last charming smile, he said, “Good night,” before striding off through the partition and closing it until only a crack remained open. Seongwoo suppressed his urge to march through the door and strangle the man. He sighed and collapsed back on his bed, frustrated. He felt like a fire that had been lit and left to burn out.

 

The concubine sat up. He scooted across the bed to his bedside table to blow out the candles. When the room was sufficiently dark, he threw his blankets over him and stared at the ceiling. Whistling fireworks coursed through his veins in spite of his body’s urge to pass out. He tossed his Master’s words around in his head vexedly. Until his last fleeting seconds of consciousness, the King’s lilting whisper played through his head:

  
“Alcohol dulls your senses,” He had said, his whisper tickling the concubine’s ear, “And when I take you, I want you able to take in  _ every tiny sensation _ so I can revel in your thorough undoing.”


	24. Absolutely Terrific

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 24 WARNING(s): N/A

Too bright.

 

Too loud.

 

Too early.

 

Those were the first three thoughts that crossed Seongwoo’s mind when he woke up. Strips of golden light snuck into the concubine’s bedchambers through cracks in the curtains. Birds chittered obnoxiously only serving to embellish his irritation.

 

“Shit,” Seongwoo grunted and buried his face deeper into his pillow. Pain pulsed in his temples and his mouth felt dry. The concubine groaned. He’d woken up but still felt as if he teetered on the fringe of consciousness. His mind had stirred, yet his body lay defiantly still. Drowsiness stubbornly held the concubine in its grasp.

 

With an immense amount of work, Seongwoo rose from his bed. The edges of his vision still spun slightly with the movement, a very dismaying discovery for him. He looked around idly and lethargically pieced together the night. He had a tense day, worked, drank with Sungwoon. Drank more with Sungwoon. Played cards with Sungwoon and drank more. Drank before heading to his room.

 

The man’s fingers rose to his lips, slowly ghosting over them. Over where Daniel’s had been. Dizzying tingles blossomed in his chest at the recollection. So much of the night had been blurred, but that memory stuck out, crystal clear.  Everything flooded him too quickly. It was too much too early for him to process, and all he could do was grasp at the sheets while visions poured into his head.

 

Daniel had been right about one thing: Seongwoo did feel remorse. He felt honestly relieved that the man had been kind and left when he did. It was not as if desire wasn’t present; but, he thought that it was best he keep an arm’s length between them. What one wants and what one needs are two different things, or so the concubine told himself. His heart fluttered at the sight of the man’s smile, and he imagined slotting his body against the other’s as they slept. Still, he refused to abide such unrealistic frivolities. He felt ashamed for indulging as much as he had already.

 

Seongwoo stood up slowly. He wanted to rid himself of his tormenting thoughts. The baths, he thought, would be a good start. The concubine lumbered toward his wardrobe to get dressed. Just as he’d opened one of the doors, something caught his eye. It wasn’t inside his wardrobe, but sitting on the floor, not far from his door. 

 

Small and unassuming as can be, a letter sealed with a glob of red wax sat on the tile.

 

Unease wrapped around the concubine, constricting him. He paced toward it apprehensively and picked it up off the ground. Turning it over in his hands to observe it, nothing stood out (per usual). The paper had been neatly sealed. No ink blotched the edges, and nothing had leaked through. There wasn’t even a single rip along the edges of the paper.

 

With a frown, Seongwoo slipped his finger beneath the paper. He slid it down slowly, breaking the seal with ease. Unfolding it, his gaze immediately shot to the lettering within:

 

“ _ A Concubine and a King finding happiness together, a pirate and a fairy princess riding off into the sunset. What do these two things have in common? They are both fairy tales. _ ”

 

Overwhelming nausea seized the concubine’s senses. Penned out in an irritatingly neat hand with a condescending tone, the letters taunted him. They jeered at him, prodding the growing wound on his heart sharply. Tears stung Seongwoo’s eyes. Reading the words on the letter somehow made things around him feel more real than they had before. 

 

Sometimes, he felt not unlike a child playing make-believe. He’d put on his pretty clothes and don his collar. He behaved himself and aligned with the expectations of the role he’d been given (at least for the most part). Names and faces and things that he’d never cared about before turned into the most important, pressing issues at the forefront of his conversations. Being a concubine had always felt like another mask, another part. He’d always written it off as so. Like an actor, he had told himself, one day he would shed his costume and exit stage right. 

 

Now, that way of thinking felt disingenuous to him. 

 

His time at Castle Jeon had evolved into more than a mere act. He’d forged genuine connections with people - real people, not characters. True consequences stemmed from his actions, and they affected more than himself. He’d pulled Sungwoon into his personal schemes and given Yeri a kind ear to listen to. His associations with King Daniel teetered dangerously on the edge of something irreversible.

 

It dawned on Seongwoo that his life was no fairytale; however, as the note said, the concept of happiness may have been.

 

Dread filled the concubine and, disturbed, he rushed to the nearest candelabra. He held the letter over the flame until it ignited and watched it burn. The sender’s venomous implications shriveled up as the burning light overtook them. He threw the remainder into his fireplace, not bothering to watch the rest burn out.

 

He willed himself to move forward. A knocking headache and flurrying nausea posed more pressing issues; so, he decided to address them. Though his body protested movement, Seongwoo sluggishly dressed. With the note’s words tossing and turning restlessly in his mind, he headed out to start his day.

 

* * *

 

“Enjoying your porridge?” Eunji asked Seongwoo. The concubine had been sitting at one of the servant dining tables for nearly half an hour and said next to nothing.

 

“Y-yes,” Seongwoo replied blearily. “Wh- ow!” A sudden whack on his head pulled his attention more strongly away from his reflections. “What was that for?”

 

“You’re not eating porridge, dolt!” Eunji groaned. The man had stumbled into the servant’s quarters and half-consciously requested some food. One of the amiable maids cut the man a few slices of bread and put water on for tea before fetching Eunji. The head maid had spent the past few weeks running around; she’d been training young staff and overlooking preparations for all the guests that the Harvest Festival would bring. She’d been less than thrilled when one of her undermaids had asked her to be pulled from her work. The head maid had seen why once she saw the disoriented man sitting at the table. 

 

“Oh. Right,” Seonwoo replied.

 

“You’re not eating anything at all. At first, I thought you woke up drunk, but now I am starting to question that. Now, eat-” Eunji snatched one of the slices of bread that’d been sliced for him and shoved it in his face.

 

“In retrospect, I am not very- mmf!” The maid had taken the man’s open mouth as an opportunity to stuff bread in there. Reluctantly, the concubine took a bite, chewing slowly. Eunji stared until he eventually swallowed, and she raised her eyebrows.

 

“Better?” She asked.

 

“A- a little.”

 

“Good, another,” Eunji lifted the bread again. More savvy the second time around, Ong made sure to grab it himself before it got unceremoniously crammed between his lips. Under the watchful eye of Eunji, he finished a slice of bread and even drank some of his tea. Whether due to the warmth of the one looking over him or the food in his stomach, he felt slightly better.

 

“Thank you, Seongwoo replied.

 

“You’re welcome. I don’t suppose you wish to talk about what’s causing you so much bother now, do you?”

 

“I told you, I drank too much wine, and-”

 

“Seongwoo,” Eunji crossed her arms and looked at him sternly. The concubine immediately shut his mouth, glancing away sheepishly. “If you wish to be eaten alive by whatever it is that vexes you, that is your choice. However, if that’s to be the case, I do not want to see you moping about in my presence. I have enough shit to deal with. If you don’t want to make the effort to trust someone to console in then- well-”

 

“I’m sorry,” Seongwoo said. “I… There is much I wish I could say…” He looked around the bustling room, full of servants young and old chattering, walking through, grabbing sacks of rice, handing off baskets of greens.

 

“Perhaps we ought to take a walk,” The maid suggested, biting her lower lip anxiously.

 

“Yes,” Ong nodded, “Let’s.”

 

The maid stood up and the concubine happily followed. The two ascended the steps from the servant’s area and entered one of the main corridors through a panel in the wall. Massive windows spanned the entire corridor. They flooded the place with light that twinkled off of the painted gold and gleaming marble tiles of the beautiful hall. A few nobles and guards made their way through the long corridor, but nobody seemed at all interested in the concubine and maid passing by. Their conversation resumed.

 

“Alright, now, the truth. What is bothering you, Seongwoo?” Eunji asked, looping her arm around his. Seongwoo pressed his lips together as he considered what he’d tell her. Part of the truth he knew he could not tell anyone, part of it he didn’t dare even tell himself.

 

“Did you know about Sungwoon?” Were the first words to come to Seongwoo’s mind.

 

“Hm? The short one with the glasses? Always running errands? I see him around often,” Eunji looked surprised initially; however, pieces began locking into place at Ong’s implication. “When you say ‘know’ to what are you referring?”

 

“You know what he is doing here- how he got here?”

 

“Well, yes, I- I may have heard things.”

 

“May have?”

 

“Well, it is not as if I am privy to the private business of courtiers and their wards. However…”

 

“However?”

 

“However, we do have eyes and ears everywhere. If there is anything to be known, we know it almost simultaneously to it happening.”

 

Ong swallowed nervously at the thought, “Really?”

 

Eunji chuckled, “You needn’t worry about yourself. I assure that nothing particularly shocking about yourself has been circulated. Your fidgeting makes me question whether you do have a deep secret or not.”

 

“I do not,” Seongwoo made a show of laughing it off. He wondered if Eunji saw through him. If she did, she’d been courteous enough not to call him on it. “Wait- you said nothing particularly shocking has been circulating…”

 

“Oh, dear-” The maid snickered.

 

“But things have been circulating?”

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know!”

 

“Well- now that you’ve brought it up, I believe I have the right to know what people are saying about me, yes?”

 

“Knowledge may be a right, but secrets are a privilege,” Her grin looked incredibly self-satisfied. Ong found her concealment incredibly unfair, but he welcomed the misdirection it provided his mind from other things.

 

“Can you not tell me one thing that has been told of me? One inconsequential detail?” Seongwoo dramatically pouted.

 

Eunji rolled her eyes, and, smiling, she gave in, “Fine! I promise you will be quite disappointed. Everyone has actually taken quite the interest in you ever since you’d arrived. The King had never taken a concubine before. Ever! However, you’ve made it quite boring for us since punching the Duke.”

 

“Boring?”

 

“Yes, well, there were many theories floating about as to why his majesty took you. It’s very uncharacteristic, you know. A butler once told me he believed the King wanted to use you as an instrument for revolution.”

 

“A- A what?” Seongwoo laughed.

 

“He said that punching the Duke was a conspiracy! I quite liked that one.”

 

“Did people believe him?”

 

“We played around with the idea, but most concluded that you merely weren’t used to concubine life. What really fueled the gossip mills was the aftermath. Your punishment was a slap on the hand.”

 

“Would you believe me if I said it was a conspiracy?”

 

“Perhaps, but… I more readily believe that King Daniel’s inclination to harm living things stretches to bugs and no further.”

 

“Still,” The maid side-eyed Seongwoo with a quirked eyebrow, “What is interesting is your release from captivity. The Duke’s staff is quite tight-lipped about it.”

 

“Are they?” Seongwoo couldn’t stop pink from tinting his ears. His stomach twisted in disgust just thinking about it. “What has the consensus to say about that?”

 

“Multiple ideas exist about that, however the most prevailing one among us is that the King offered the Duke something. In exchange, you kept your head.”

 

“I see,” Ong felt relieved that talk of his flesh being offered stayed absent. Her tone didn’t particularly imply so, which made him glad. At the very least, if she was making a play at ignorance, she did so out of politeness.

 

“Then there’s that disastrous hunting trip. You’ve heard some of those stories.”

 

“Yes, they’re quite dramatic. They would make for an excellent play or novel,” Seongwoo laughed.

 

“Quite! Of course, now things have quieted down, and any gossip about you is quite typical.”

 

“Typical? What constitutes as typical among you lot?”

 

“Oh, just boring, romantic drivel. ‘Did you see how the King looked at Seongwoo?’ and ‘They are getting closer’ and ‘They took a bath together I heard’. Us servants adore the concept of a noble person harboring affections for someone like us. The King and the concubine falling in love. Things of that sort.”

 

Red migrated from Seongwoo’s ears onto his face and nerves speared his chest. He’d hoped to forget about his troubles for a time. Instead, they managed to rear their ugly head, thrown in his face no less. He bit back his initial response: “Who is to say they can’t.”

 

“That is a very romantic point of view,” Seongwoo replied. “Ridiculous one, it is. The King and I- We- being-” Unintentionally, his pupils flitted away. His tone changed; the syllables locked up, coming out in a strangely formal manner. Eunji picked up on it immediately and abruptly halted.

 

“God in heaven, Seongwoo,” She whispered. The concubine felt uncomfortable as the maid studied him. Her gaze looked past flesh and words, straight into his mind, his heart. The head maid’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth to conceal a gasp. Seongwoo’s heart sunk. Just as he began concocting neutralizing responses, Eunji spoke again. 

 

“I-I mean- You are quite right,” Her words were boisterous loud in comparison to her awed whisper moments prior. She began walking again, striding onward as if nothing had just occurred. “People love a good story, don’t they?” Seongwoo turned to look at Eunji, perplexed. Eunji hugged his arm reassuringly. She gave him a hesitant smile as if to say: “It’s okay.” 

 

It had been the closest Seongwoo had ever gotten to telling anyone of his complex feelings for Daniel. He’d never anticipated his admission to come in the form of erred syllables and stunted words. Even with only a mere sliver of truth being revealed, he felt incredibly relieved.

 

“Yes, people enjoy vivid stories like that,” Seongwoo responded.

 

“Some people do, yes. I, however, prefer a more daring story,” Eunji said with a grin, attempting to change the subject.

 

Ong happily took the opportunity to move away from romance, “Oh? Daring how?”

 

“Stories of action! Fights, intrigue, battles of swords and wits!” She glowed talking about it.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes, really!”

 

“I would have never thought.”

 

“Why not? Can a woman not find the art of combat thrilling?”

 

“Of course anyone can,” Seongwoo said, throwing his hands up. “I suppose I just did not expect something of a person who’d spent their whole life here of all places.”

 

Eunji playfully slapped his arm and scoffed, “Who do you think I am? A titled lady? Perhaps for them, it is not the type of etiquette that will land them an esteemed suitor. For me? I used to sneak off to spar when I was a little girl.”

 

“No!”

 

“Yes! I managed to wear down an apprentice of the swords instructor with ample bribes from the kitchen.”

 

“So you’ve always been shrewd, then?”

 

“Maybe so,” She shrugged smugly. As the two continued their walk around the corridors, a muffled sound began echoing down the long hall. It sounded faint, but as the two moved forward, it grew. Indistinct utterances began outlining themselves among the faint sound bouncing across the hall.

 

“What’s all that?” Seongwoo asked, turning to Eunji with raised eyebrows. The maid glanced down the hall, and her eyes caught an open door.

 

“There seems to be a gathering of nobles, though that is strange. I cannot recall hearing of any special occasions. The throne room is the next floor up and I can’t think of why court would move elsewhere,” Curious, the maid skipped forward in an effort to hear what the nobles were going on about more closely. Nearly reaching the open double doors, all her ears were met with was yelling. She peeked in nosily.

 

Sunlight poured in through the tall windows of the room. Rows of beautifully crafted wooden chairs had been lined up neatly in the room. The nobles who had seated themselves on the fine decor conversed hushedly in the midst of the main event.  Toward the front, on an elevated platform, stood an older gentleman behind a podium. He hollered across the room loudly in monotone, rattling off names and numbers in rapid succession. An expression of dismay fell across the maid’s features. Seongwoo reached Eunji shortly after, just barely leaning to get a peek at the proceedings.

 

“Wh- No!” Eunji whispered insistently, yanking the concubine away from the opening.

 

“What are you on about? I just want a little peek-”

 

“We need to go. You do not want to disturb them, do you?” She tried to convince the other.

 

“What? A quick look will surely not disturb anyone.” He leaned over to look again.

 

“Seongwoo, wait-” Eunji had spoken too late.

 

Seongwoo studied the scene before him, wondering what precisely Eunji had made such a fuss about. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary initially. Nobles sat about, whispering to one another as they always did. Someone at the podium had been presenting something. It appeared to be a painting. 

 

“-will begin at ten gold. Ten gold do we have ten gold- we have ten gold-” Seongwoo’s eyes followed the man’s gaze to a middle-aged woman sitting with her hand raised. The man’s drone continued, as did Seongwoo’s observation.

 

“Sold!” The man said after a brief paused had ensued following a bid of ‘twenty-five gold’. The man, Seongwoo surmised, was an auctioneer.

 

“Why are you raising such a commotion over an auction?” Seongwoo turned to whisper to Eunji.

 

The maid smiled sheepishly, “Well you know how easily disturbed those things are. Derailing an auctioneer is a very serious offense here. We best move along lest we be seen.”

 

“In such a rush? I never get to see what is considered common noble life. I am curious,” Ong commented, once again glancing into the large room.

 

“If you are curious, you can ask someone. Now come on, let’s go back so you can finish your breakfast. We can get you a stiff cup of tea before you go about your day-”

 

“There seems to be a variety of things, not just art.” Ong ignored her invitation.

 

“Well, it is likely an estate auction. Probably selling off whatever parts of the inheritance the next of kin didn’t want. Who cares about some dead rich man’s things?”

 

The concubine backed away, ready to concede, but the auctioneer’s voice rang out clearly into the hall. Following his announcement, a collective of gasps and murmurs ensued among the crowd. Ong’s heart wrenched.

 

The auctioneer had yelled, “Next is the concubine. Aged sixteen years, trained in dance and poetry, currently answers to the name Justin with purity intact. The bidding will begin at fifty gold!”

 

Seongwoo rushed back to the doorway with wide eyes. Just as the auctioneer had stated, on the platform stood a young boy, age sixteen. The boy’s stature made him appear as if he could be blown away by a stray draft. At the end of the chain that fell from his collar stood a palace guard. The young boy cast his eyes downward meekly, and the nobles began eagerly placing their bids.

 

“-and we have fifty-five gold! Sixty gold- and we have sixty gold! Sixty-five- we have sixty-five-”

 

Ong gripped the opulently painted door frame with knuckles. Acidic venom raised in his throat as he watched on. 

 

The nobles enjoyed themselves. They tittered and whispered and raised their hands with fervor with increase of the boy’s asking price. The auctioneer droned on, uncaring. He performed his job, calling out the rising price just as he had for the painting he had prior. The palace guard stood nonchalantly, eyes cast forward as his duty dictated. 

 

“-ninety-five! We have ninety-five! Do we have one hundred gold? Ninety-five going once- and we have one-hundred gold-”

 

Seongwoo felt sick. Pure disgust squeezed him from the inside. It ached, making angry tears well up in his eyes. He wanted to run in there and yank that chain himself, to run far, far away from that place. However, his feet could not move. His mouth could not speak. He remained rooted in his spot, paralyzed by the sheer devastation of it all. A boy’s life had been reduced to a commodity. All the young concubine could do was stand and watch as his fate was decided by who wanted to pay top dollar. He would more than likely not even get to see a shred of the bounty he would pull in. It would go to the estate and he to a new Master.

 

A forceful pull brought Seongwoo back to earth.

 

“Eunji,” Seongwoo whispered, his voice shaking with both fury and ruin, “What the hell?”

 

“Come along,” Eunji said, “You’ve seen enough, let’s go.” Seongwoo obliged, following her as she started walking in the other direction, but he still endeavored to wipe what he’d just seen from his head.

 

Heavy silence hung between them as they walked away with no particular destination. Seongwoo wasn’t sure what to say. Every time he thought he’d at least somewhat compartmentalized his ill feelings toward the culture, he saw something new. Something disgusting. God did not hesitate to remind him of what being a concubine truly meant in Kang society. Nor did anybody else. Seongwoo swallowed hard.

 

At first, he had hoped that walking without speaking would soothe his ailing heart. However, when it hadn’t, Ong decided to speak his mind.

 

“I thought that was an estate auction,” He said, his voice still betraying the bleakness that clouded his heart.

 

Eunji frowned; with a sigh, she answered, “It… It is an estate auction.” She stopped to look him in the eye, “Seongwoo, I- I thought you would have known this by now: concubines are a part of the estate.” Ong stopped to regard her but struggled to meet her eyes. He turned his gaze away bitterly.

 

“It is not as if I was given a lesson on all of- all of this. I was tied up and thrown in front of a stranger. My fate was sealed.”

 

“Well, you are different,” Ong could tell that Eunji was treading lightly. Though she typically spoke bluntly, her voice sounded soft, and she seemed to choose her words thoughtfully. “You are very different. Most concubines are- well, they are-”

 

“Are property.” Seongwoo finished her sentence. Eunji nodded in dejection. 

 

“Yes, they are property. They sign contracts that essentially grant them the status of- of-”

 

“Livestock?” 

 

“You could make such a comparison, yes. I- You really did not know any of this?”

 

“No! I told you: nobody gave me a lesson on what it meant to be a concubine. My understanding was that we do what we’re told. I- I didn’t think,” Memories of all the times he’d considered killing the King flashed in Seongwoo’s mind. He suddenly wondered what would have happened had he succeeded and been caught. Would he have been auctioned off? Or did the next in line inherit him as their own? What of those he knew? Sungwoon, even? Had they all signed their lives away? “I did not think at all. It- it makes sense, I suppose.”

 

“Yes. Concubines give themselves over and become the property of their Master. When their Master dies, they are given to the next of kin with the estate unless their contract states otherwise. It is not terribly uncommon for terms to vary.”

 

“Vary? How so?”

 

“W-well,” Eunji bit her lip, “There are two types of contracts that I know of. There are the lifetime contracts and then the limited ones. Lifetime is quite explanatory. Limited is…” She looked up in contemplation as to how to explain it, “Well, some noble lords and ladies lose interest after their ward reaches a certain age. Limited contracts dictate that the concubine is to be released when they reach the age of the Master’s choosing.”

 

“That’s disgusting.”

 

“It is,” The maid nodded in agreement, “Those are the two I have mainly heard about, though occasionally we catch wind of other arrangements. Regardless of how long one is bound to their Master, if their master dies, it is the next of kin who decides what happens to them. Many nobles will include terms to free their concubines in their wills, but… Not all. Some may demand that they are kept in the estate.”

 

“Simply astounding,” Seongwoo commented dryly. 

 

“I am sorry,” Eunji said. “That is life.”

 

“You’ve nothing to apologize for. In all honesty, I am sorry that I saw that…”

 

The maid reached out and gave the concubine’s hand a squeeze,“Seongwoo… You are a kind soul, and I understand your heart bleeds upon seeing such injustices. But, I urge you not to let this weigh you down too greatly. If… If you want to fight, you know I will support you wholeheartedly. I truly will. Just- do so smartly. I do not want to hear of you getting locked up in a room again. I’d feel awful if you brought more hatonto yourself.”

 

Seongwoo squeezed her hand in return. She’d been correct: he did want to fight. He wanted to fight and scream and cry. He wanted to dismantle the entire Kingdom from the inside out. However, he also knew that she was right. He could not fight at every slight provocation, no matter how loathsome some things truly were. There would be a time and a place, that is what he told himself.

 

“I understand,” Seongwoo responded, “You needn’t worry. I will not run back there and wrestle the auctioneer to the ground. Even if it would be hilarious.” He attempted to lighten the mood slightly.

 

Eunji seemed appreciative and gave a small giggle, “Bane of dukes  _ and  _ court auctioneers? Us servants would be writing songs about you if that happened.”

 

“You best contact one of the court composers now, because someday I will do so much more than that,” He grinned. The maid broke out into a full laugh, and her infectious smile quickly broke Seongwoo down, too. 

 

The pair made an effort to talk about more light hearted topics afterwards. They chatted contentedly, spinning more hypothetical theories about Ong’s exploits. Seongwoo gave Eunji a few details regarding how he wanted the songs they wrote about him to be written. Eunji laughed even harder. 

 

Seongwoo bid his farewell with the head maid shortly after. With the festival fast approaching, he and Sungwoon needed to start doing walkthroughs with the gardeners. Eunji needed to actually start doing her work. Eunji gave him a tight hug and whispered in his ear:

 

“If you need someone to listen to any of your… ‘Ridiculous stories’, please call on me.”

 

Ong nodded, responding, “Of course.”

 

The two parted, and he sighed as he strode off toward the gardens. He pondered when he had become so bad at hiding things.

 

* * *

 

Tense silence hung over the war room in a thick veil. King Daniel sat at the head, hands folded beneath his chin as he looked at the large map in concentration. To one side sat General Park and Advisor Yoon, to the other Prince Daehwi and along with a few other military officers on the far end of the table. 

 

The lot had a lengthy agenda, but they’d gotten stopped up fairly close to the top of their list. Troubles to the south had only grown worse, and the special reconnaissance operatives had not made the headway that had been anticipated. While they’d managed some small victories, they had yet to infiltrate the bandits’ core organization. Or find it. They had, however, managed to anger them. 

 

On one side of the rift: the Prince and lower ranked military officers suggested sending more aid to the south in the meanwhile. The Prince wanted real, visible military presence, believing it would dissuade activity and establish them putting their foot down. On the other side, Advisor Yoon and General Park felt wary about sending numbers. General Park insisted that they needed to maintain a healthy reserve nearby in lieu of the attacks on Duke Hwang’s villa. The Advisor’s point was that they had little actual information about their opponents and that making a decisive move could prove immensely wasteful.

 

King Daniel sat somewhere in the middle. He saw the merits of both sides just as he could analyze the flaws. Neither had fully swayed him, however, resulting in a rather frustrating morning.

 

Words had been tossed around, rejected, rehashed, and thrown out again, resulting in an impasse. With the conflicts straining coastal cities, the Kang’s tacticians feared that their efforts would need to extend beyond the stretches of their borders. Even the verbal likes of Advisor Yoon and the confident young General Park had given up on speaking, lest they incite another squabble.

 

“ _ Knock. Knock. _ ”

 

Soft knocking on the door roused the group from their awkward silence, and the lowest ranked military officer, a colonel, answered it. A young messenger extended a silver tray with a sealed envelope on it. The colonel took it, giving the servant a quick thanks before dismissing him.

 

“Your majesty,” The colonel extended the letter to King Daniel with a bow. Silence reigned over the room once more. Everyone watched with anticipation as his majesty took the note. He slipped his finger beneath the seal and broke it. The King scanned the letter quickly. He nodded to himself before regarding the room.

 

“Gentlemen, I have some news I believe will be good,” He said, a cool, confident smile across his lips. “The Bae royal family has returned correspondence. Our invitation has been accepted, and we are to expect the Queen and Prince as our honored guests for this year’s harvest festival.” A collective sigh of relief swept across the room. Prince Daehwi clapped happily, and the General grinned widely, visibly plotting far into the future regarding military mergers.

 

“Praise be unto God!” The Prince said happily with a wide smile. “He sends us angels when we need them the most.”

 

“If we can form a favorable alliance with them, our strength would be unparalleled,” General Park commented.

 

“We already have considerable might on land thanks to you, General,” The colonel piped up. The others in the room chuckled.

 

“Thank you, Colonel. I believe this good news warrants a nice cup of tea, doesn’t it?” The General said. Enthusiastic agreement returned as a response, and the General flashed his sweetest smile, “Colonel, Brigadier General, would you two be so kind as to fetch some servants to have it made for us? Do take your time.”

 

“Yes, sir!” “Yes, sir!” The two obliged in unison. They exited with skips in their steps, most likely giddy at the opportunity to escape the stuffy war room.

 

Jisung laughed, “Tea. That’s a good one.”

 

“They looked bored,” Jihoon shrugged, “Anyways, I much prefer it without the presence of other officers. It’s a bit more relaxed, isn’t it? Reminds me of sitting around with the governess learning our etiquette.”

 

“It is like that,” Daniel chuckled, “Except instead of learning where to place cups and silverware, we are learning where to place these-” He picked up one of the small models used to represent troops on their map. The others in the room laughed in response.

 

Jisung stood up, stretching. He bent over the table, glancing toward the expanse of blue paint that represented the ocean,“Pity we can’t stick you on a boat, General. You could sail to the islands-”

 

“Oh, please- No,” Jihoon shuddered. The others snickered. “How dare you bring up possibly the worst trip of my life.”

 

“I’m quite surprised you came out alive,” Daniel jeered, “Considering you spent the majority of the time on the boat retching. How did your body sustain itself with no nourishment?”

 

“God made man to live on land. Not on a collection of floating planks!” The General fired back playfully.

 

“Which trip was this?” Prince Daehwi, the youngest, asked. Many of the memories shared by the older three had been missed by him. Despite his rather small gap with General Park, the two hadn’t fraternized much as children. Prince Daehwi had always stuck to the side of Somi and other girls his age whereas the older lot cavorted in a pack.

 

“Remember- I’m not sure if you were there or not- a whole lot of us had been invited to one of the islands to the south. Oh- who governs that territory now? Never mind that. We’d been invited to the south- well, our adult relatives had. Jihoon spent the whole journey there dreadfully sick.”

 

Daehwi gasped in realization, “You nearly died that trip!”

 

Jisung’s face lit up in secession, “He did! You did! Remember because you ate that-”

 

“The shrimp!” “The shrimp!” “The shrimp!” All three but the King said in unison.

 

“Oh my- that is correct. I- I thought that was another time, but you are all right,” Daniel’s face scrunched as he laughed.

 

“Yes you- oh I remember this,” Daehwi tittered, “Somi and I were playing with some dolls and you just-” He snorted, “You just fell flat on the deck out of nowhere! The noise gave us quite a shock, and we thought you were playing dead.”

 

“Apparently, he was just plain dead,” Jisung quipped.

 

“Wait, but- I thought… Who found me, then? It was… Jihoon?”

 

General Park nodded, the cogs in his head turning, “I… I did find you. And I fetched help- what were you two doing?” He asked the Prince accusingly.

 

“We thought he was playing!” Daehwi shrugged.

 

“I passed out on the deck!” Daniel exclaimed in good humor.

 

“You fall asleep often in stranger places!”

 

“I resent that,” The King feigned offense.

 

Jihoon stepped in,“The Prince has a point. I once saw you fall asleep at the table. You were using a roasted pig as your pillow.”

 

“I thought you were my friend!” Daniel threw his hands up dramatically. 

 

“I wish I could have captured that moment, to be honest. It would have made a splendid painting.”

 

“You have been demoted,” His majesty crossed his arms animatedly, “Our friendship is over. Daehwi, congratulations. You are my dearest friend now.”

 

“I thought I was your dearest friend,” Jisung cut in.

 

Jihoon smiled saccharinely and squished his cheeks with his hands,“You think of me that way? D-Daniel you hadn’t told me. I take back all those things I said!”

 

“I agree with the General, I did not consent to this,” Daehwi said.

 

“Have I just been rejected by my own cousin?” Daniel asked in disbelief.

 

“You just have been, yes,” Jihoon nodded.

 

The King clenched his chest theatrically,“Well, I do hope you treat the Bae family with more courtesy than me- your own flesh and blood!” The trio laughed until the room lapsed back into silence. This time, however, the air felt much less tense. A subtle current of nostalgia coursed through the air; it wasn’t often that any of the courtiers had allowance to banter as they used to. Still, a very real and valid point underlied their farce.

 

“So, they are really coming?” Jisung popped the bubble of quiet first.

 

“Yes,” Daniel said with a nod. He passed the letter over to his advisor who snatched it up eagerly. “Yes they are, and this may be our chance. We must assure this year’s festival is the most beautiful and extravagant. They will be so overcome by our wonderful culture and hospitality that they will be moved to help us.”

 

The Advisor nodded, “This… Could change everything.” He said solemnly. 

 

“Having their naval power would expand our horizons beyond what our ancestors had envisioned,” General Park added.

 

“U-Um,” Prince Daehwi interjected so quietly that he could hardly be heard. The other three looked at him expectantly when they finally noticed he’d spoken. “Pardon my ignorance, but, what exactly is going to make them so inclined to lend us aid from a mere festival?”

 

“On their visit, they will see more than a few fireworks and some jousting,” Daniel explained, “I, will explicitly show them exactly how beneficial our alliance will be.”

 

“We can show the might of our military.” “He will court the Queen, obviously.”

 

Daniel’s jaw dropped; he looked at Jisung, the one who had spoken over him, incredulously.

 

“What?” “What?!” The King’s words were mixed with another’s again; the General had joined his majesty in looking at Jisung in disbelief. Prince Daehwi looked on in wide eyed confusion.

 

“Stop- all of you stop speaking,” Daniel huffed, “What did you just say?”

 

Jisung looked at his King in complete puzzlement, “What did I say? What did  _ you  _ say?! How- wh- I- I am struggling to grasp what about  _ my _ words were problematic.”

 

“Y-your grace,” Jihoon hastily turned to Daehwi, “May I invite you to take a quick walk?”

 

“That would be splendid, General. Thank you,” The Prince accepted the invitation gleefully, and the trotted off witha quickness. Jihoon shot a dirty look toward the Advisor quickly before departing. The Advisor and the King returned their attention to one another once more.

 

Daniel stood up from his seat and looked down at his Advisor, “You are not to put words in my mouth, do you understand me?”

 

“Daniel- Your majesty,” Jisung looked at the ruler warily, “Surely you have at least considered the possibility of wedding Queen Irene. She is the perfect candidate: healthy, young, unwed, able to give you heirs, and ruler of a very,  _ very _ powerful empire. And you- well, I imagine you’d make an ideal match for her.”

 

“You imagine?” Daniel’s jaw locked and he rolled his eyes, “I understand what possibilities are available to me.”

 

“Then why the hell would you wish to pursue any other than the clear answer? This is- this is it! This is a miracle. Her coming to our festival- being here- that is a miracle. God is placing angels right on our castle grounds. We are hungry and he is offering a feast!”

 

“Please do not compare a woman to a meal,” The King frowned with annoyance. “She is a human and so am I. I do not intend to attach myself to her for a lifetime to solve a short-term issue.”

 

“It may be short-term now, but soon these months of difficulty will turn into a year of difficulty. Then two years. Three. A decade goes by and we haven’t solved our problem. Why? Because our King is a stubborn child!” Jisung slammed his hands on the table and stood up to face Daniel eye to eye. He exhaled sharply but made an effort to lower his voice when he spoke again, “Daniel. I am not just your advisor. I am also your friend. Please, for all that is good, can you please make things easy on yourself? For once in your life?”

 

“And what of her? Queen Irene? Is that going to be easy on her? A loveless marriage arranged out of desperation? I imagine she is pressured just as much as I- if not , moreso. Is me taking the easy way out going to lead to a life of difficulty for her? You speak of this fantasy of an incredible, powerful union as if it is that effortless-”

 

Jisung laughed wryly and rolled his eyes, “Spare me the altruistic act. You don’t give a shit about her, we both know that. You just refuse to marry.”

 

“I do. Wonderful conversation we’ve had. If that is all you have to say on the matter, we best move on,” Daniel said sternly. He let his eyes gaze lock with Jisung’s for a few seconds before turning to leave.

 

“Daniel- Stop! What are you- what are you doing?! How can you turn your back on your people like this for petty, personal desires!?”

 

The King halted. He gasped with offense, but this time it was genuine.

 

“Do  _ not _ question my dedication to my people,” He replied, not bothering to look the other man in his eyes. 

 

“I do question it,” Jisung said defiantly. “I do because you refuse to do something that will so clearly benefit us all! And why? Because you’re-”

 

“A child, yes. I heard you the first time,” Daniel turned around with fists clenched. 

 

“Good. At least you are still listening. It shocks me you haven’t plugged your ears yet!”

 

“Why must you speak so condescendingly?”

 

“Why must you be so difficult? You- Daniel! You are a King of your people. Please, do what is best for your people-”

 

“Advisor,” The ruler clenched his fists. He straightened up, and a disquieting serenity came over the man. His voice levelled out, but it’s tone had been laced with a frigid quality. “I suggest you watch how you address your King. I am the sovereign ruler of this land, dictated by heritage and blessed by the lord himself through the recognition of the church. You do as I say. I do as I please. I will not be told who I am going to wed.”

 

Jisung’s jaw went slack. He looked at the man he’d known for years in shock. Daniel certainly had a stubborn streak, but he’d never pulled rank so coldly. He always entertained various viewpoints before reaching conclusions, and he’d never let his personal feelings stop him from laying his neck on the line for the good of his people. Daniel had changed over the years, they all had. Jisung knew this, but the person in front of him looked like a completely different man than the one he’d known just months prior.

 

“Selfish,” Jisung whispered to himself, shaking his head.

 

“What was that?” Daniel asked.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Is that how you speak to your King?” 

 

“I-” Jisung bit back another retort, “I apologize. It was nothing... Your majesty.”

 

“Better,” Daniel replied coolly, “Now, regarding our problems to the south, I would like send more troops there. Find General Park and inform him. We shall take a brief recess until noon, then let us resume activities here.”

 

“Yes, your majesty.”

 

“Oh- and Advisor?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I expect you to return after our brief pause with an improved attitude. Please, do not disappoint me.”

 

Jisung replied, a knot growing in his chest,“Of course, your majesty.” 

 

* * *

 

“ _ -In my head, in my heart _

_ I will place you right now… _ ”

 

A soft piano flourish followed the sung lyrics of the song in the rehearsal room. Brief quiet ensued as the people present to watch the singer’s rehearsal reflected on the sweet melody.

 

“Bravo! Bravo!” Jaehwan, one of the court’s most talented musicians, was the first to break the silence. He did so as raucously as ever, clapping loudly.

 

“Bravo! Bravo!” Park Woojin joined, jumping up from his seat on the floor and wiggling around. The two court performers alone filled the room with so much sound that it bounced around and caused a bedlam.

 

Yoo Seonho, who had been accompanying himself on piano, laughed. He grinned, and his cheeks went pink. It vindicated him knowing that the palace performers had appreciated his work. The young singer’s eyes went to the person who had been his most generous host.

 

Guanlin grinned, clapping along with the older men (though acting more mature than the both of them).

 

“Thank you kindly. It is an honor to perform at the palace,” Seonho said politely.

 

“We are happy to have you,” Jaehwan said. “For someone so young you have quite an aptitude. Your songs all exude the fresh, effervescent aura of spring. The arrangement for your accompaniment is quite clever. Should you continue down this path, I believe you will find veritable success.”

 

“I think it certainly stands out as a performance piece,” Woojin added. As an expert on dance, he had little else to add. The young boy’s music certainly lended itself more to standalone performance than the technical, artistic dance that Woojin favored. Regardless, it had managed to lift the moods of everyone in the room, and for that, they felt grateful.

 

“It is beautiful!” Guanlin beamed, “I will be so excited to see you at the festival and tell everyone that I am your acquaintance.” Seonho grinned, dismounting the piano bench. 

 

“Many thanks again,” Seonho said, “Especially for letting me barge in while you two were working.”

 

Jaehwan shrugged, “It’s hardly a problem. I feel invigorated after watching you play.”

 

Woojin nodded in agreement, “It was much needed.”

 

“We probably ought to go, though,” Seonho said. “I wouldn’t want to disturb you further.”

 

“As much as I would love for you to continue disturbing us, I believe you are right,” Jaehwan said. “We still have yet to come to a consensus on choreography for- oh never mind that. You two have an enjoyable afternoon.”

 

“Shall we?” Seonho turned to Guanlin. The concubine nodded, extending his hand for Seonho to take. The two chicks bid polite farewells to the court musicians before returning to the corridors of Castle Jeon.

 

“You were right, they are quite nice,” Seonho said as the two started walking.

 

“Yes. There are lots of nice people in this castle. I find the musicians are quite eccentric, but… In a good way,” Guanlin replied with a smile.

 

“They seem like interesting people. You appear to be surrounded by many colorful people. I envy that.”

 

“Colorful?” Guanlin giggled, “I suppose you could say that. It is true, there are many interesting types here. Not all of them are nice, unfortunately. I seem to have great luck, though. Everyone I talk to beyond formalities is quite kind!”

 

“Well, thanks to you I can say I’ve had a similar experience.”

 

“Good,” Guanlin looked incredibly satisfied with himself.

 

“Yes, they are all quite nice. I- I am trying to learn everyone’s names. That was… Jaehwan and Woojin.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And there is… Seongwoo. I only saw him briefly.”

 

“Yes! He’s like an older brother. He helps me with language often.”

 

“How kind! Then there is Samuel. He’s an excellent dancer!”

 

“He is truly talented. I wish I had such talents!”

 

“And, um, Sung… Oh I am losing it. The one with specs-”

 

“Sungwoon! He’s like- like the boss. He’s always got important things to do.”

 

“Yes! Then, of course, there is your Master. General Park Jihoon,” Seonho fidgeted nervously for a few seconds before venturing to ask a question. “May I ask you something, Guanlin?”

 

“Of course. What is it?” The concubine tilted his head in curiosity.

 

“Well- I- Where I live we don’t have many- um…” The singer struggled to find his words briefly. “What is your Master like? Is he nice?” The question came as a surprise to Guanlin, but he took no offense in it. On the contrary, any opportunity to talk about his Master was one he would happily take.

 

“My Master is very nice,” Guanlin replied, a small grin on his lips, “He is… I got very lucky, I think.”

 

“You do?”

 

“I do. He is kind and brilliant and brave. And- and his face,” The concubine chuckled sheepishly. “He is handsome, too. I feel as if I could have landed in much worse situations, but… My Master chose me, and I am very grateful for that.”

 

“That’s… I am glad to hear that,” Seonho replied, “You do seem quite lucky. I mean- a- an esteemed General, and he is not even much older than you or I. Handsome and so well established at such a young age, too. He seemed quite collected when you’d introduced him to me.”

 

“He does seem that way, doesn’t he? The truth is, my Master has many sides. To many he is very self-controlled, nothing can shake him, but he can also be very… Passionate and warm. Of course, one cannot diminish his military achievements, either. I imagine he is a very different man on the field than off.”

 

“Well, I am glad that you can see such loving sides of him, then. I apologize if I seem to be prying. I just- this is all new to me. I am fascinated, admittedly.”

 

“You needn’t worry about me. I suppose after all this time, this is normal to me. To you, it is a departure from life in your village, yes?”

 

“Quite,” Seonho nodded. “All this beauty, the people, the multitude of servants and- and you all. It is a bit much. I am especially grateful for your guidance because of it.”

 

Guanlin squeezed Seonho’s hand more tightly, giving him a smile, “I am especially grateful to have made a new friend. Anyways, it’s fun telling you all the things about the castle.”

 

“You truly enjoy it?”

 

“I do!”

 

“If that is the case, I have very, very many questions for you to answer.”

 

“Oh? Well we’ve got about two weeks until the festival. I believe we have time. The real question is: where do you wish to begin?”

 

“Well,” Seonho bit his lip nervously. A devilish smile crossed his lips, and he said, “My first question would be… Does your Master happen to have a brother who is in search of a personal musician?” Guanlin snorted. He playfully shoved Seonho, causing the singer to nearly topple over. 

 

Their laughter echoed down the corridor, carrying the bliss of youth down the halls. 

 

* * *

 

Gray clouds floated low to the ground over the palace gardens. Sungwoon looked up at the sky and pouted while Seongwoo wrapped up a conversation with one of the gardeners. The younger concubine dismissed the gardener before returning to the older man’s side.

 

“Looks gloomy,” Sungwoon scrunched his nose. “It’s going to rain.”

 

Seongwoo shook his head, “It has been like this for the past three days. Somber as can be, but not a speck of rain.”

 

“I have lived here for years, I am confident I can predict the weather better than you.”

 

“I will have you know, that I- I am good at predicting weather, too.”

 

“And you sound  _ so  _ confident in your statement.” The older man glanced up at the sky warily,“Well, we ought to return indoors anyways. We will have to finish mapping out tents tomorrow. It’s not as if it’s particularly arduous anyways, given that few alterations are being made from last festival’s layout. Plus… It is almost dinner time, and my-” A tiny smile crossed his lips, and his voice went down, “My husband and I are eating dinner together. He usually eats with the nobles, but we- we try to, at least once, in awhile share a meal.”

 

Seongwoo’s grin stretched across his lips before he could think about it. Ever since Sungwoon had told him about his marriage, many things about the man made much more sense; his agency, his attitude, the way he spoke to Advisor Yoon - it all locked into place. Among the generalized dolor within the walls of Castle Jeon, their marriage provided a small respite. It made Ong glad to see that two people could face perils for love. He did not like to acknowledge it, but he possessed a romantic streak. As of late, he’d been getting more in touch with it than he’d desired to, but he tried not to reflect on that fact.

 

“I certainly am not going to come between you and a meal with your husband,” Seongwoo replied. 

 

“You certainly are not. I stated my words as a suggestion, but in truth: I am going inside with or without your consent,” The older concubine chuckled.

 

“And that is the beauty of being peers. You do not need my consent!” Ong laughed, “Please, do enjoy your dinner. I believe I can make some more progress with the map out here.”

 

“Seongwoo, it is late,” Sungwoon’s brows furrowed in suspicion.

 

“It is still light enough out to do some work, and, unlike you, I do not have dinner plans.”

 

“Hm,” The older man’s expression went from perplexity to interest.   
  


“What is this ‘hm’ why are you ‘hm’ing me?” Seongwoo threw his hands up. 

 

“Nothing, nothing at all,” Sungwoon said in a manner which betrayed that there was very much something to say.

 

“Can a man not wish to get some extra work done with the time he has to spare?”

 

“I feel as if you are avoiding something?”

 

“Oh, no,” Ong groaned.

 

“Someone, perhaps?”

 

“Sungwoon-”

 

“Someone very… handsome? Titled?”

 

Seongwoo stepped behind Sungwoon and put his hands on the shorter man’s shoulders. He began pushing the other toward the castle.

 

“Go enjoy your dinner!” He demanded of his mentor. Sungwoon laughed, and it soon turned into his unique, shrill cackle. 

 

“Alright, alright! Enough pushing! I just hope you know how dreadful you are at lying!” Sungwoon said, continuing to walk on his own toward the castle. 

 

Seongwoo threw his hands up in exasperation. Rolling his eyes, he shouted after the other:

 

“I have no idea what you are talking about!”

 

Sungwoon yelled back, “Simply dreadful!”, and those were his last words before he returned to Castle Jeon.

 

Ong crossed his arms and pouted, muttering to himself, “I am an amazing liar.” He sighed and scooped up the journal and graphite that they’d placed on the ground earlier. The two had spent the majority of their day consulting with the gardeners to map out the festival. Tent positions did not change drastically from year to year, but new additions needed space while old ones left vacancies. 

 

On top of tents and the people manning them needing spaces, they also needed to assure that the layout had logic behind it. Exotic vendors and performing troupes alike had been sending requests for certain positions; some even outlined specific troupes or families they did not wish to be near. One acting troupe had, according to Sungwoon, a decades long feud with another, and they needed to perform on polar opposite ends of the garden. An atelier from the northwest very pointedly stated they would riot should they be placed by a food vendor again, lest their precious garments be tainted by wayward spills. Two years prior there had been a jousting accident; it had traumatized a dancer so badly that their entire troupe asked to be in a spot “where jousting is not so much as hinted to”.

 

Seongwoo did rather enjoy the challenge, but it did prove tiring. The thought of not pleasing everyone massively tormented him. Terrible imagery of angry people shouting at him plagued his mind when he considered arrangements. He felt incredibly silly to fuss over such a thing, but making others happy was almost second nature to him. He often had to remind himself that the success of the festival was of little consequence.

 

The concubine started to feel trapped. Not because of the leather around his neck but because of the thoughts shackling his mind. He’d never thought so many conflicting things would bind him. As time had gone on, more and more pressures started mounting, strings looped around his limbs. They had started to cross and tangle. The result was a colossal, snarled mess, and at the center of it: Seongwoo.

 

He’d started to lose track of things he had told people and not told people. There were things he wanted to tell people, but couldn’t bear to. There were those he wanted to avoid out of dislike, spite, and fear. Even so, God would tug the string; he would bring them back into his presence for some peculiar reason. 

 

Worst of all: he’d started to care, and by the time he realized it, it was too late to stop.

 

“ _ Boom _ .”

 

A low rumbling noise sounded out across the sky.

 

“Oh, no,” Seongwoo muttered.

 

“ _ Drip _ .”

 

“Sungwoon is probably laughing his ass off right now…”

 

“ _ Drip. Drip. _ ”

 

Ong crossed his arms in irritation, praying that the drizzle would pass. When it only increased in fervor, he wrung his hands down his face and cursed.

 

“ _ Drip drip drip drip- _ ”

 

“Shit,” Seongwoo hissed. Fat droplets wet his hair and face as he bounded toward the nearest tree, a large oak. Though not all of the leaves had unfurled, the ancient thing provided adequate cover to keep the concubine dry in the interim. He sighed, leaning back against the thick trunk of the tree and wringing a hand down his face. “Shit,” The second time he muttered it to himself, he referred more to his general situation than being caught in the rain specifically. 

 

“Shit,” The third time the word was muttered, Seongwoo hadn’t been the one to say it. His head darted to the direction of the voice, and his heart sunk upon seeing it. King Daniel trotted toward the tree’s trunk, looking behind him. Seongwoo looked out at the gardens, covered in sheets of gray rain, then back at his Master. Pounding raindrops poured down with even more ferocity than before, and soon, even the dense canopy of the oak did not provide immaculate shelter.  The concubine considered tiptoeing off, but much to his chagrin, the man noticed him.

 

“Wh- Seongwoo?”

 

“Daniel,” Heat burned the concubine’s face the second he acknowledged the man. His voice upturned in an awkwardly high pitch as he tried to speak casually,“You’re well, this evening?”

 

The King scrutinized the concubine with a sharp gaze. He took a step toward his concubine, to which the man responded by recoiling. His highness frowned.

 

“I am quite alright, thank you,” Daniel said coldly. Seongwoo nodded politely before looking away. He made it a point to look incredibly interested in the rain falling beyond the canopy of the tree.

 

Then nothing. Pattering rain filled the quiet between them, but it did nothing to smother the growing discomfort between them. Seongwoo snuck a quick glance at Daniel. The man fidgeted his fingers with one another, and for an instant, he looked up to glance at the other. Seongwoo rushedly redirected his gaze elsewhere, and blush creeped up his neck onto his face.

 

The rain fell ceaselessly, and the air between the King and the concubine grew heavier by the second. Seongwoo wanted to say something, to make polite conversation or crack a joke, but his mind failed to concoct anything. Torturous thoughts floated to the forefront of his mind instead. The fire that had blazed in him when their lips met his wasn’t a sensation he would soon forget.

 

He wanted to feel it again.

 

“ _ It’s a fairytale _ ,” Words written on the letter scrawled across his mind.

 

Braving the rain started to present itself as a more favorable option than addressing the massive elephant in the room. Anything, he thought, would beat fighting with severe conflict from both inside and out. He could handle one at a time, not both.

 

“You have regrets?” A voice emerged from the rhythm of the rain. Seongwoo turned to look at Daniel. His heart leapt into his throat.

 

“May I ask to what you are referring?” Seongwoo replied. He tried to straighten up, looking as proper as possible.

 

“Do not play stupid,” Daniel said, clearly unamused. His patience had, evidently, been worn quite thin.

 

The concubine frowned and looked away, “Are- are you going to force me to say it?” He may as well have smacked the King in the face. The ruler’s expression made it look like he had done just that.

 

“Is sharing a kiss so despicable to you that you dare not even speak of it?” Hurt permeated his majesty’s voice.

 

“Well, it was more than one-” Seongwoo blurted out. He swiftly shut his lips, more heat pricking his cheeks and ears.

 

Daniel chuckled wryly, “At least you have acknowledged it.” His whole body tensed, and the look in his eyes was wrought with worry.

 

“We shouldn’t- I shouldn’t- You need to forget about that. We both do.”

 

“And why? Did you not pull me back when I tried to leave? Did you not lament my departure?”

 

“It was a mistake. A result of drunkenness and- and-”

 

“I refuse to accept that,” Daniel said firmly. 

  
Seongwoo’s brows furrowed, “You- You what?”

 

“You want me. I know you do. I understand that these things can be difficult to accept. I would never wish to push you to say things you are not ready to, but... Lying to my face? Badly at that.”

 

“What do you want me to say?” The concubine’s pupils shifted about, and his fingers fidgeted anxiously. 

 

Daniel sighed, “I want just want honesty.”

 

“Honesty? Alright. You can get honesty: I was drunk and I hate you.”

 

“You and I both know that you are lying about one of those things.”

 

“Well, I am certainly glad that you have me figured out,” Seongwoo, feeling cornered, began walking off. He no longer cared how soaking wet he got; he needed an escape. Myriads of frustrations reeled through the concubine’s head. A shiver ran down his spine as he passed through the threshold of the pattering rain. 

 

“Why are you so scared of me?” Daniel asked after the man, following him out into the rain.

 

Searing frustration stung Seongwoo’s chest, “Scared?” He turned on his heel to face the King, his Master, and braced himself indignantly. “Scared?! You do  _ not  _ scare me.”

 

“No? You are running away from me.”

 

“I wasn’t running…” The concubine’s thought trailed off. Regardless of his own thoughts, it did look an awful lot like running from an outsider’s perspective. To that he conceded. Daniel took the other man’s time of contemplation to close the gap between them. Seongwoo’s eyes widened and he jolted to get away, but the King closed a firm grip around his arm. 

 

“What are you running from?” Daniel asked with a penetrating gaze. Seongwoo swallowed the lump in his throat, anxiety and pressure expanding in his heart.

 

“I am not running from anything. Now would you- would you let me go?” The concubine wanted to sound firm, resolute, but his voice wavered. Cracks started to form in his armor. Daniel’s jaw locked and his shoulders tensed. After a short delay, he released his grip on Seongwoo’s arm. The King’s pupils cast downward, and he clenched and unclenched his fists. 

 

Finally, he managed to reply; his words dripped with dismay, “I understand now. All this time I have wanted to grow closer, but…” He shook his head, “I give up.” 

 

Those three words took the air from the concubine’s lungs. Hearing the words made Seongwoo’s heart dip; his facade of resistance disintegrated in an instant. It revealed an expression of pure anguish.

 

Daniel continued, elaborating, “I- I admit I lack the fortitude to cope with such fickleness. Every human has physical needs, but beyond that… I understand now that I projected.” He took a step back, “It is unfair to you for me to be so presumptuous. I apologize for my insistence. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” He nodded coldly and started walking in the opposite direction.

 

Seongwoo froze in place. The King started making a considerable distance between them before the concubine could process it. Dread flooded his system. He clenched his fists, muttering sternly to himself:

 

“No,” He swallowed hard, watching as the King’s silhouette shrunk in the distance, “No, no, no. Let him go,” The concubine urged himself. “This is how it- how it  _ needs  _ to be.” A shudder ran over his body, and he tried to suppress the emerging sob that rose in his throat. He reminded himself over and over and over again: things needed to be that way. 

 

It was as the note had said: happiness for the two of them was a mere fairytale. 

 

Irritation swelled in him just thinking of the note. That damn note. All of them. They all read so condescendingly; they prodded him, as if he needed to be reminded of his position and role in Castle Jeon. 

 

Thoughts and images of Daniel ran through his head. He thought of the other man’s many facets. His passion, his flirtation, his despair… He’d shown so much of it without care. Daniel praised his concubine for being “courageous”, but Seongwoo realized that he’d been acting far from it. Shame mixed in with his nerves and anger when more and more memories of their encounters came to light. It occurred to him: the second Daniel got close, he ran. Just as the man had said. His behavior revealed the truth regardless of the fire he spat from his mouth. Daniel was not a stupid man, he saw those things. He’d probably been perplexed by them often, contemplated them. Even so, the King had always received Seongwoo so graciously - save for their early encounters.

 

“Shit,” Seongwoo mumbled to himself. He reminded himself again: that was how things needed to be. Just as the note said.

 

The note.

 

How Seongwoo loathed those notes, their tone, the implication behind them. Even if they had a trace of truth, he wished he could burn them from his mind. 

 

Suddenly, it dawned on him that he’d been aligning his reasoning with a note. A fucking note. A vague letter sent to remind him of his place, of what he  _ should  _ be doing. Of how another thought he ought to live his life. In the back of the concubine’s mind, a voice asked:

 

What do you want?

 

Well, he thought in response, of course I want him.

 

It felt strangely liberating to say those words so nonchalantly (even if only to himself). Despite everything, his heart, mind, and body ached for King Daniel. It made him feel ill thinking about it. The voice responded stoically. It did not account nor care for reason or logic; acting on behalf of Seongwoo’s most pure desires, it said:

 

Then get him.

 

Seongwoo had a lengthy list of reasons to do the exact opposite ready. He knew well the reasons that he and the King could not advance any sort of companionship. He’d had to rattle the list off to himself more times than he desired to confess. Just as he readied himself to leave the gardens and purge any thoughts of Daniel from his head, the King’s words popped up:

 

“I give up.”

 

The concubine’s heart splintered just imagining it. 

 

“Shit,” Seongwoo muttered to himself. “Shit, shit, shit, shit,” He squinted in the direction that Daniel had left, but the man’s silhouette was gone. 

 

“Shit!” He exclaimed. Sloshing noises sounded out loudly as the concubine ran in the general direction the King had left in. His conscious thoughts had reduced to mere curses as he searched desperately for Daniel. The concubine’s head darted left and right frantically, praying that he hadn’t lost the man. 

 

A broad shouldered figure appeared in the distance, and Ong bounded toward it. The consideration that it may not have been the King terrified Seongwoo; he pursued regardless, praying that he wasn’t about to traumatize some stranger. Kicking up hunks of mud and grass, Seongwoo’s legs carried him quickly toward the person in the distance. He wheezed, picking up his pace. Anxieties and nerves and poorly repressed feelings began bubbling up to the surface, threatening to boil over. 

 

When he’d closed the gap to a few paces, he felt relieved to see that it was the King. The man turned around, likely due to hearing the heavy breathing and loud footsteps. Daniel furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth to say something, but before he spoke, Seongwoo stumbled. The concubine slipped and fell onto the wet ground with a loud squelch.

 

“A-are you okay?!” Daniel stuttered in shock.

 

“No,” Seongwoo replied flatly into the ground. He turned over and wiped the mud off of his face, “U-um, physically I am alright. I mean-” The entire confession concept had seemed infinitely easier and much less muddy in the concubine’s head. Embarrassment added itself to the multitudinous emotions that had crammed themselves inside of him. 

 

“Here,” Daniel extended a hand, and Seongwoo took it. His majesty helped the other up, eyeing him with concern, “Now you’re really soaking.” He looked down at his hand, which still remained closed around the concubine’s, “S-sorry,” His highness hastily let go.

 

Seongwoo, creature of grace and dignity that he is, blurted out, “I am scared.”

 

“Wh- What?” Daniel’s eyes widened in confusion.

 

“I- You were right. I am afraid,” Seongwoo nibbled his lip anxiously, looking at Daniel. Before the man could reply, he made an effort to get all of his thoughts out (lest he cower and run away). “I am scared of- of you. Of myself. Of everything. You tell me I am courageous, but truthfully I am always terrified. I have been ever since- well, for a very long time.”

 

The King’s expression of bewilderment softened, “Seongwoo… I…”

 

Tears welled up in Seongwoo’s eyes, “I run from you because I am fearful for- for so many reasons. Daniel I…” The concubine fought to look the other man in the eye. A ball of nerves and tension clogged his throat, as if willing him to stop speaking. Seongwoo resisted, trudging onward. “Daniel I want you. I want you the way you want me. Not just for a quick relief of tension. You are… Despite everything- you have a kind heart, and I have come to- to like that. I enjoy time spent with you. Sometimes, I even forget that I am just a concubine.”

 

“You do?” Daniel looked completely shocked. His lips had fallen open. He watched on in sheer amazement, as if he thought the man in front of him was a mirage.

 

“But I am afraid. I- I don’t want to become some brainwashed palace pet. I do not want to forget who I am. If I get attached to you I- I know it’s going to hurt-” The mass of anxiety in Seongwoo’s chest overflowed; tears that had been teetering on the edge of his eyes streamed down his face. His face scrunched and thick sobs shook his body. He averted his gaze in embarrassment. “I know it’s going to hurt, and I don’t want to hurt anymore. I have lost so much and the thought of losing more I- I-”

 

Strong arms wrapped around Seongwoo. 

 

He felt a hand lace through his dripping wet hair, bringing him close. The concubine returned the embrace, hands clinging to the soaked fabric of the other’s doublet. He dug his face into the crook of Daniel’s neck, content to remain there despite the mother nature’s violent downpour. 

 

“I would never intentionally hurt you,” Daniel said. “I do not want you to be my pet or an accessory. I want you to be Seongwoo, the man I know. The man who I care for and admire. I- Please… Let me show you kindness.”

 

A sob caught in Seongwoo’s throat, nearly gagging him. He buried his face further into the other’s chest, and his body shook with heaving cries. He felt as if there was so much more he could tell Daniel at that moment. He wanted to spill everything, but he couldn’t. The King placed a soft kiss on his head and rubbed circles on the other’s back.

 

“Seongwoo,” Daniel spoke softly to the other. The concubine hesitantly met the other’s eyes. He felt a wave of shame wash down his body; never had he anticipated showing such vulnerability to the man before him. His majesty didn’t seem to care, he looked down at the man warmly and gave him a small smile, “I do enjoy holding you, but… Perhaps we ought to resume beneath the roof of the castle. I fear that we will fall ill if we persist.”

 

Seongwoo let out a shaky chuckle, “You’re right.” He sniffled. 

 

As if on cue, a spear of lightning flashed in the sky, and soon after, the sound of rumbling thunder clapped uproariously. He jumped slightly at the sudden noise, fastening himself more snugly to the King’s body on reflex. The concubine could feel his Master’s body tremor with laughs, and he turned to pout at the man. His wits had been bent nearly to the point of snapping, and he’d just flipped over his heart to dump its contents at his feet. 

 

“I-it’s not humorous,” Seongwoo said. The concubine’s remark merely elicited a wider smile from the King. For the first time, Seongwoo could rightly admit to himself that the man’s smile made his heart swell. Daniel neglected to respond. Instead. he just grinned at Seongwoo even more. The concubine started to feel a prick of annoyance at the other’s amusement, but just as he opened his mouth to deliver a searing remark, he got cut off without warning.

 

Daniel brought his lips to meet Seongwoo’s delicately.

 

The concubine clenched Daniel’s doublet with an even more robust grip in an attempt to keep his knees from buckling. It felt different to the concubine than it had before. The King kissed him gently, his hand raising to cup the concubine’s face. No alcohol confounded Seongwoo’s emotions, and denial had been tossed aside. 

 

Warmth starting from his lips trickled into his veins; it ran down the rest of his body, igniting in his chest. The sound of rushing blood filled his ears, drowning out even the loud rain. Stinging sweetness made his entire body shiver. For a few moments, the concubine worried that he would faint. Seongwoo questioned whether or not he was truly alive in that moment. Surely, he thought, such a sensation was not one a person could feel during their time on earth. He was left breathless when the King finally released his kiss.

 

Seongwoo looked at the man before him blearily. He watched the fat droplets run down his forehead and along the contours of his cheeks. His eyes traced and retraced the lines of his plush lips. Ecstasy and dread wrestled within him; opening up to the idea of intimacy with Daniel horrified him in all honesty. God’s presence loomed over his shoulder, watching the grains of sand fall through the hourglass representing them. 

 

Yet, to Seongwoo, it felt so undeniably right, so real. 

 

Reflecting on his past, he recognized something. He could not remember the last time he’d felt such a way about a person. The concubine did not delude himself like some lovesick teenager. He’d been painfully aware for longer than he wanted to admit that their connection stemmed from a very primal place. Still, he struggled to recall when he’d ever yearned for someone to such a degree. 

 

“Let’s get out of these wet things,” Daniel said, rousing Seongwoo’s attention. The concubine nodded in response. He stayed fixed in place for a few instants; he could only watch the other man’s receding figure. His majesty looked back and raised a questioning eyebrow, “Have you forgotten something? Or- Do not tell me you have regrets already.” His shoulders sagged.

 

“N-no,” Seongwoo finally woke up. He approached Daniel with shaky breaths. Looking down, the concubine could see how his body shuddered. Differentiating between anxiety and elation still proved difficult. “I will not take back my words.”

 

“Good. Come on,” Daniel took Seongwoo’s hand, interlacing their fingers. 

 

Seongwoo squeezed the other’s hand. The gesture had been incredibly simple, something a small child would do. Still, the simple act of affection impacted Seongwoo more than he’d anticipated. Gradually his apprehension evaporated. A tiny hint of hope had planted itself inside him and, in spite of logic, reason, and reality, it began to take root. Images of a damned future faded, and one little thought rose in their place:

 

The concubine hoped that, perhaps one day, he could heal Daniel just by holding his hand, too.

 

* * *

 

“Master what are you looking at?” Guanlin asked Jihoon. The two had huddled beneath a lofty evergreen when the first few droplets of rain had fallen. Initially, the General had told his ward that he’d expected the shower to pass quickly. What he’d intended to be a pleasant evening walk had been literally dampened. He’d miscalculated severely, and so the two waited in hopes that the downpour would at least lessen in severity, if only slightly.

 

Two figures in the distance had caught General Park’s eye. His initial instinctual reaction had been suspicion. No person in their right mind would willingly walk out in the open during such torrential rains. Two persons doing it rang alarm bells in the General’s head. However, upon further inspection, he started to recognize the figures in the distance.

 

Even through the curtain of raindrops, his majesty’s broad shoulders and long legs were unmistakable. Jihoon had (much to his dismay) seen the slender man next to him often. The whore. His gut twisted at the sight of the men together. He would have been more happy to see a cobra coiled around his majesty’s torso. There was hardly a difference, in his opinion.

 

Guanlin followed his Master’s gaze and gasped, “Is that- Oh that is! That’s his majesty and Seongwoo. Hello-” He started yelling and waving. Jihoon quickly snatched the young chick’s hand out of the air.

 

“Leave them be, they seem to be… Conversing,” The General said. Guanlin paid the comment little mind and watched along with his Master.

 

“What do you think they are talking about? In the rain? They will get sick if they stay out too long.”

 

“I can’t say, darling. I haven’t the slightest what the two would have to talk abou…” Jihoon’s thought halted immediately and his eyes went wide. Shock seized his system, and it took every ounce of restraint he had not to jump up in that very second.

 

“Wh- Oh my- I never knew they had grown so close,” Guanlin cooed, squeezing his Master’s arm, “How romantic, a kiss in the rain. It’s like something out of a play.” He looked at Jihoon fondly, “First you and Seongwoo getting along. Now Seongwoo finally coming around with his Master?” The young concubine sighed happily, leaning his head on Jihoon’s shoulder. He smiled, “Maybe one day they can be as happy as we are. Isn’t that a wonderful thought, Master?”

 

Simmering fury kept Jihoon firmly in place. His entire body tensed, and he labored effortfully to maintain steady breathing. He had no care for how narrow minded the concubine thought he was. The opinion of a glorified whore meant nothing to him. He didn’t regard the world in the childish reduction of “black” and “white”. To him there were three things: those who protected, like him. Those who needed protected: Daniel, Guanlin, the members of court, even the twisted, perverse Duke Hwang. 

 

The third one: threats that caused a need for protectors like General Park Jihoon.

 

Daniel meant almost everything to him: a lifelong friend, a reason to fight, a reason to return home safe. That had all been jeopardized the second he’d made one of the stupidest decisions of his life. His decision quite literally mocked him. It taunted him, called him narrow minded and unstable, and now, that decision had his arms wrapped around one of the General’s few reasons to live. Gushing blood and war honed urges broiled inside his ribcage, threatening to unleash themselves. Rapidly, approaches began materializing in his head. He always walked around with a longsword and a dagger, more than enough to assassinate an unarmored harlot. The General knew it would upset Daniel, but he considered that if he planted incriminating materials quickly enough, the concubine could look guilty of some treason. Rational thought seemed so inclined to depart once the General’s temper flared. Still, he felt powerless to stop it, and in regards to the whore’s case, disinclined.

 

“Master?” Guanlin’s voice pierced Jihoon’s thoughts like an arrow. The molten furor inside of him hardened in an instant. It hissed, fizzling out until it was nothing but a hard lump of bitterness sitting at the bottom of his gut.

 

“Yes, Guanlin?” Jihoon replied. His eyes didn’t leave the two figures who’d begun departing in the distance.

 

“I said: isn’t it wonderful? All of us getting along? Being happy with one another? Just in time for the festival, too…”

 

Jihoon replied, plastering a forced smile on his face:

 

“Yes, my dear. Terrific. 

 

Absolutely terrific.”


	25. The Arrival of Esteemed Guests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // CHAPTER 25 WARNING(s): Suggestive content & descriptions

“To the left! Your other left!” “Where’s me hammer?!” “ _Clang! Clang!_ ” “Has anyone seen my chickens!” “Scaffolding over here, watch your head.” “ _Neigh!_ ” “Now move it to the right.” “Let’s set the stakes out here.” “Those aren’t the right stakes!” “ _Buh-cawk!_ ” “ _Clong_ !!” “My head!” “WHO LEFT THIS HERE!?” “-and down it goes! Right here, let her down easy-” “ _Bark! Bark!_ ” “ _Clang!_ ” “A little higher.” “Oh- Isn’t this lovely?”

 

Castle Jeon’s gardens had turned from a serene expanse of greenery to a scene of utter chaos. Servants, laborers, vendors, farmers, and all other manner of workers scattered about. The first day of the Harvest Festival stood only seven days out, and so much had yet to be done. Seongwoo and Sungwoon had both risen early that morning to make way toward the gardens. The two had hardly been given chance to digest their breakfast before being whipped into a whirlwind of activity.

 

Tents were being erected, vendors were arriving, performance troupes began scouting out the stage areas (some of which had yet to have been built). A large expanse of the lawn had been sectioned off to house the camps of the festival’s guests, and it gradually filled more and more. The scale of the entire operation had Seongwoo in awe. He’d worked closely with people to arrange things, yet the magnitude had still been lost on him until people had begun arriving. There were tents, workers, horses, and scaffolding as far as the eye could see. He found it even more astonishing to think that, within a week, it would all be pristine. Every manic piece of the puzzle would find its place, creating a lasting memory forever.

Seongwoo felt melancholy reflecting on such a thing.

 

The passage of time slowed for no one, and soon it would be gone; all of it. Though it tainted the back of his mind with ill feelings, Ong tried not to mind it. He took every moment as it came. When everything was to be torn away, then he would face those feelings. Until then, he and Sungwoon still had much work to do.

 

“It is really happening,” Sungwoon said with a smile, patting Seongwoo on the shoulder.

 

“It is,” Ong grinned. “You know, after choosing our colors, it was quite a breeze,” He joked.

 

“Yes, a mere trifle. Absolutely baffling that we do not do this every weekend, isn’t it?”

 

“I think we would bankrupt the Kingdom in two months time.”

 

“Well it would be very fun, wouldn’t it?” Sungwoon said with a grin.

 

“I am not sure I could do this often, myself.”

 

“No? You do not see yourself getting used to all of this?” Sungwoon asked.

 

“Not quite. Palace affairs and all that. I do not feel completely out of my element, but… I suppose it is always more of an undertaking than it seems.”

 

“Well, it is only going to get continuously more chaotic. This is downright peaceful in comparison to what’s to come.”

 

“That sounds incredibly foreboding. It is as if you are willing bad luck to come upon us!”

 

“I am being honest! The Baes are arriving today, and starting tomorrow we’ve less than a week to assure this is all tied up neatly. Then our work will be done, and we can enjoy the festival for a bit.”

 

“The Baes? Is that today?” Ong frowned.

 

Sungwoon visibly dissected the other’s grouchy expression, “Yes, this afternoon. Then there will be a party.”

 

“A party before the party. Of course.”

 

“Yes, it is to be a large affair- How are you not aware of this?”

 

“We have been quite busy. At least I have been,” Seongwoo hushed his voice, “Not all of us have husbands to frolic around with.”

 

Sungwoon laughed resonantly at that, “Is that what you think he and I do? ‘Frolic’? Because I can tell you what we do, and, to give a clue, you’ve chosen the wrong ‘F’ wor-”

 

“I cannot speak to you about anything!” Ong wailed, throwing his hands up, “Stop it! Stop it right now!”

 

“You brought it up!”

 

“I did not ask for a report on your- your private relations!”

 

“You are right, Seongwoo,” Sungwoon smirked, “We oughtn’t talk about my private life… We should discuss yours.”

 

“I- That is not what I meant,” Seongwoo scoffed, red staining his cheeks. Suddenly, another person roused the two from their banter.

 

“Excuse me, sir,” A voice called from behind Ong.

 

His eyes widened, and his face contorted into an expression of shock at the sudden voice. He turned on his heel rapidly to face the person.

 

“I-I’m sorry,” He stammered, “You gave me quite a shock.” he inspected the person in front of him. A young servant stood politely aside. The man extended a tray with a folded letter toward the concubine.

 

Seongwoo glanced at Sungwoon with confusion before turning toward the servant. He plucked the note off of the silver tray, and the boy dismissed himself. Unfolding the piece of paper, Ong scanned the letter. His face knit further into a look of confusion, and he told Sungwoon:

 

“Something seems to have come up. I’ve been summoned.”

The older concubine’s mouth made a large “O” shape, and he wiggled his eyebrows at Seongwoo. Ong rolled his eyes and began walking away. The last thing he saw before turning around in exasperation was Sungwoon, amusedly mouthing the words:

 

“Maybe it’s King Daniel.”

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo looked around confusedly at the vast kitchen. He’d traversed the servant’s halls many times before, but he didn’t find himself in the grand galley very often. He ate where the servants ate. The grand galley, a massive expanse of the finest and most modern cooking and baking facilities, served the nobility. Two massive fireplaces lined the east wall, one of which had been in the process of stewing something in a massive cauldron. Pots, pans, and other utensils ranging from typical to outlandish hung along the walls. Long tables sat out in a neat, grid-like formation. Surely they were typically topped with ingredients for the day's meals, surrounded by busy people. However, much to Seongwoo’s surprise, not one servant could be seen.

 

“Hello?” Seongwoo called out, curiously. He walked further in and noticed something sitting on the tables.

 

More precisely, many little somethings. A few of the tables had been laid out with petite porcelain, and atop each dainty plate sat something: a tiny bite. Some of the little bites were round and appeared to be made of chocolate, embellished with berries and drizzled with a sauce. Others looked to be tiny tartlets, perfectly crimped crusts filled with the perfect amount of custard. The smell of sweetmeats and gingerbreads began filling Seongwoo’s nose as he inspected the galley further. Biscuits, cakes, truffles, pies… Every dessert Ong could possibly conceive in his mind (and even a few he struggled to recognize) sat atop one of the porcelain saucers. A voice behind him rang out in the silence:

 

“Surprise.”

“Oh my- G-Wh-!”

 

Seongwoo nearly hopped onto the nearest table in utter shock. He clasped his heart, turning around with wide eyes. King Daniel snorted, and his face knit together, making his eyes disappear, as he laughed. The concubine’s heart flipped at the sight, a sensation he still felt strange acknowledging. In truth, he did not yet feel completely at ease allowing himself the luxury of such emotions, but he’d conceded. He had opened the gate and had no intention of sealing it. It had been about a week since things between them had taken a turn, and so much had changed in that short time. Ong by no means disliked it, but he felt as if the jarring transition had given him whiplash. Regardless, through all of it, Daniel had been gracious as ever.

 

The two had spent long nights with carafes of wine doing little more than talking. It never failed to shock Seongwoo how quickly time passed by in the other’s presence. There’d even been a night on which they hadn’t gone to sleep until seeing sunlight crest the horizon. Seongwoo had learned that Daniel once studied far overseas. He’d discovered a dangerous aversion to certain foods on a journey once. He’d gotten in trouble many times for secretly practicing dances in his bedroom, and loved spiced foods. Even though he enjoyed meat, the man could not bear the thought of killing an animal. He’d once freed sheep from the stables and nobody found out it’d been him. Even though the man constantly lacked sleep, he insisted on staying up because he enjoyed reading.

 

“That is not funny!” Seongwoo huffed, crossing his arms. “You scared me half to death. A mysterious summons into an empty room?”

 

“It is a little bit funny,” Daniel held his fingers a short distance apart to illustrate the point. “Just a little bit.”

 

“Was that the reason for calling me here? For a laugh?”

 

“No, of course not,” Daniel chuckled. He gave Seongwoo a glowing grin and closed the distance between them.

 

“Then what is all this?” The concubine’s heart buzzed about in his chest. He thought that, perhaps, revealing his true feelings would cause the sensation to cease. It had not. The man still made his chest twist and bounce as he had before. The prime difference was merely that Seongwoo no longer felt inclined to slather the sensation in a thick coat of dread. Instead, he only coupled his affections with a small sprinkling of it. Given his circumstances, he thought it exceptionally generous to accept the feelings at all.

 

“These are,” Daniel gestured to the little desserts on the tables, “Some sweets for my sweet.” He took Seongwoo’s hands in his own, planting a sweet kiss on the other’s forehead. The concubine rolled his eyes, but his lips upturned no less.

 

“I pray that your turn of phrase did not take too long to think up,” Ong joked.

 

“I thought of it on my walk here, aren’t you proud?”

 

“Incredibly.”

 

Seongwoo could not contain the laughter fizzing up inside of him, and he let it burst, scrunching his nose and ducking his head. Daniel, endeared by the other, unflinchingly grabbed the other’s face. He brought their faces together, pressing his lips to Seongwoo’s smile. The concubine’s tittering faded, and the two folded into one another.

 

Their lips caressed one another gently. Contentment fell over the two as their fingers interlaced and their noses bumped. The kissing, Seongwoo thought, that was the best part. His mind had been plagued by a storm of anxieties since arrival. The raging torrent of worries rushing through his head often kept him up at night or caused him heartache.

 

Yet almost none of them stood a chance against Daniel.

 

When their lips met, Seongwoo’s apprehensions dissolved, they disappeared. All he could think of was the other: his lips, the heat he gave off, his sweet nature. The only anxiety that remained was the knowledge of how fleeting their time together was. Even that only barely registered in Seongwoo’s mind.

 

“Is this what you brought me here for?” Seongwoo asked, separating from the other.

 

Daniel grinned and shook his head, “No, but I suppose I can’t help myself.” Seongwoo’s heart lurched at the statement, and he minorly despised himself for it. To be so easily done by such simplicities embarrassed him.

 

“You understand I have other tasks that need to be done.”

 

“I do. However, this task is particularly important.”

 

“Kissing you?”

 

“No- well, yes, but- As you can see,” Daniel let go of Seongwoo and gestured to the spread of treats, “There is a veritable spread of desserts laid out here. Every year it is customary that we give out a treat to those who attend.”

 

“Yes, I am aware. It is typically the job of the- well, the acting Queen to decide what it is to be, yes?”

 

“That it is, but all we have is me,” His majesty gave the concubine a tiny grin. “I thought that, perhaps, I could… Use some help.” He looked at Seongwoo with a hopeful expression. The concubine thought it absurd that the man would think he would ever deny such a request.

 

“So I have been assigned the daunting task of eating sweets?” He jeered.

 

“I understand that I am asking very much of you.”

 

Seongwoo dramatically sighed, “Well, it may not be easy, but… I shall make the sacrifice.”

 

“Your noble act will not be forgotten,” Daniel played along. He took Seongwoo’s hand again, yanking him to one of the far tables. The two peered down at what appeared to be a custard tartlet. “You first,” His majesty said eagerly.

 

Seongwoo nodded and took the tiny tartlet between his fingers delicately. It looked picturesque with its golden brown crust and immaculate gold filling. He took a modest bite, and his face lit up as the flavor hit his tongue. Egg custard tarts were a relatively simple sweet, but the palace chefs had managed to nail them to almost surgical perfection. The crust was perfectly crisp, and the almond flavor complimented the mild sweetness of the custard well.

 

“Good?” Daniel asked.

 

“Mhm!” Seongwoo nodded enthusiastically. His majesty extended his hand, and Ong handed him the remainder of the tartlet. The King had a similar reaction, a huge smile blossoming across his face at the taste of the confection.

 

“Which one should we try next?” King Daniel asked. The concubine eyed the veritable spread discerningly.

 

“I suppose we ought to make our way up and down these tables, don’t we?”

 

“As I said before, it’s hard work, but we must make sacrifices for the greater good.”

 

The pair did just as they said they would. They started to systemically make their way up and down the line, sampling every one. There were delectable cakes made of puff pastry and cream and dense chocolate truffles so bitter that Ong’s face scrunched up. Sweetmeats had been presented in a variety forms and colors. Some were cakes, rolled with cream to make a swirl. Others appeared to be shaped pastry, filled with fresh fruit.

 

After nearly a dozen bites, a twinkle of sugar in the distance caught the concubine’s eye. Seongwoo’s jaw dropped at the perfection of the tiny thing as he strode over to the most perfect sweet he’d ever laid eyes on. The little round sweet looked just like a peach, covered in sugar. However, Seongwoo knew there had to be more to meet the eye. Upon closer inspection, it was quite obvious that the tiny thing was by no means a peach, but something that’d been made to look like one.

 

Daniel gasped, “I didn’t know the chefs had prepared these!” He smiled at Seongwoo widely, “Do you know what this is?”

 

“I am guessing it is not a peach,” Ong replied.

 

“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” His majesty said with a grin.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“It’s more fun that way- Trust me! If your sense of taste functions like any normal person’s, you will love this.”

 

“C-Close my eyes,” Seongwoo’s nose scrunched. It seemed like the perfect setup for some kind of a prank.

 

“Please, trust me on this,” The King gave his concubine a goading look. His lips pursed and his eyes attached to the concubine’s adamantly.

 

“Alright, alright,” Seongwoo gave up. He blinked his eyes closed and parted his lips ever so slightly. Gently, Daniel lodged something sweet between Seongwoo’s lips.

 

“Now, you want to take a big bite to make sure you can taste everything,” Daniel instructed. Seongwoo chuckled at the fact that he’d just been told how to eat a pastry. As silly as it was, he thought it sweet that the man cared, even with regards to such nonessentials.

 

As he’d been told, Ong took a fairly large bite. The outer layer of the “peach” had a nice, chewy bite to it. He heard the crunch of sugar as his teeth chomped down, and a rush of flavors hit his palate. First, he noted the outer “peel” of the peach had a familiar nuttiness to it. Marzipan. It had been made to absolute perfection, giving just enough of the almond flavor without being overpowering. Inside the skin of the little peach was a layer of perfectly moist cake, and at the very center, he tasted two fillings working together: buttercream and berry jam.

 

“Mm!” Seongwoo’s eyebrows raised in excitement. The marzipan peach provided everything one could possibly want in a dessert: variable textures, mild sweetness from the cream, tart berry preserves to cut through the density of the cake. Everything worked in perfect harmony, creating a scrumptious taste so remarkable, Seongwoo regarded the bite as an entire experience.

 

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Daniel asked.

 

Ong plucked the other half of the peach from Daniel’s hand, “Your turn,” The concubine said with a grin.

  
“Oh?”

 

“Yes, open your mouth,” The concubine said suggestively.

  
Daniel chuckled obliging. He watched carefully as Seongwoo brought the remainder of the peach closer and closer to his mouth until finally- he suddenly swiped it away, throwing it in his own.

 

The King gasped, “I- I cannot believe this!” He laughed despite the incredible betrayal that had just occurred. Seongwoo wore an expression of satisfaction as he finished chewing the other half of the peach.

 

“I am genuinely sorry. It just- it is such a beautiful pastry. I intended on giving part of it to you, truly.”

 

Daniel made a dramatic pouting face, crossing his arms exaggeratedly, “Of course you were.”

 

“I mean it! Look- Here, I shall make it up to you,” Seongwoo grabbed the next nearest thing, a cake shaped like a flower with a cream frosting. “Alright, open your mouth. I promise you, I mean no deception.”

 

“I don’t trust you,” Daniel huffed.

 

Seongwoo brought the pastry to the other’s mouth,“Open up, open up,” He said in a singsong voice. The King, grinning madly, tried his hardest to appear stubborn. He failed incredibly and slowly opened his mouth. The concubine started to insert the cake between the other’s lips, but the silliness of the situation seized him, causing his body to jerk.

 

“Wh- Seongwoo!” Daniel pouted. A small splotch of buttercream dotted Daniel’s scrunched nose.

 

“I- I’m sorry, it was a mistake! Truly!” The concubine snickered at the King on whom he’d accidentally mussed.

 

“You know what, I think,” His highness swiped the cake from Seongwoo’s hand, “You should try this.” He pushed it toward Ong’s mouth.

 

“Wh- Stop it!” Seongwoo shouted, throwing his hands up in a fruitless effort of defense. He could feel the creamy frosting spreading across his lips. “I- Mmf- I think I have had enough!”

 

Daniel snickered, setting the once impeccably decorated cake down, “I agree. However, you have, um…” He gestured to the concubine’s lips, covered in frosting, “You just, um…”

 

“What?” Seongwoo asked facetiously.

 

“N-no, just a bit further down-”

 

“Oh. Here?”

 

“No- not- not-” Laughter dying down, Daniel gave Seongwoo a crafty smile, “You’ve got something right there,” He leaned in pressing his lips against Seongwoo’s. The concubine sighed happily, shivering ever so slightly when he felt the other’s tongue against his lips.

 

When Daniel separated, a flush had crossed his cheeks. His pupils darted away momentarily, bashful in lieu of his own foolishness.

 

“Is it gone now?” Seongwoo asked.

 

“Yeah,” Daniel’s teeth sunk into his lower lip. He looked Seongwoo up and down for a few moments before swiping a finger across the top of another tiny cake. Lightly, he wiped it on the other’s neck.

 

Seongwoo rolled his eyes with a grin,“Wh- You are acting like a- like a…” His thought trailed off instantly upon feeling a pair of lips on his neck. Daniel’s tongue flicked out from between his lips, slowly tracing the line left by frosting until none was left. Seongwoo’s breath had caught in his throat. Searing heat poured onto his body in one fell sweep. The shock of it caused his knees to falter, causing him to lean against the table behind him for support.

 

When Daniel finished polishing off the frosting from Seongwoo’s neck, he came back up. One of his hands idly reached to cup his concubine’s face. When their eyes locked, the concubine could see the change in him, the murky darkness that had cast itself like a veil. Fidgety little sensations began fluttering in Seongwoo’s chest.

 

Without a word, Daniel collected frosting on his finger again. This time, however, instead of depositing it on the concubine’s neck, he held his finger to the other’s lips. Seongwoo glanced down at it. Warmth swam from his chest down into his abdomen. A tiny, prideful part of him looked at the gesture disdainfully. He had sworn to himself that he would never turn into some placant palace pet. Now he, quite literally, felt inclined to literally eat out of King Daniel’s hands. Seongwoo nibbled on his lip hesitantly, wrestling with his pride for a few moments. He tried to weigh how appealing the prospect was in the moment versus how ashamed he would feel in the future.

 

Seongwoo parted his lips. He locked his gaze with Daniel’s and, slowly, let his mouth descend on the extended fingers. Closing his lips, he ran his tongue along the underside of the King’s fingers; he assured that he dipped into the nooks and crannies, not letting a single bit of frosting go to waste. The sweetness lingered on his tongue even when he let go of the other’s fingers.

 

Daniel visibly swallowed. He reached toward one of the confections to their side. Seongwoo could not help noticing that his hand looked shaky. His highness ran his frosted finger across his lip, an explicit invitation. Seongwoo took it with ardor, snatching Daniel’s lower lip between his own and sucking. Their mouths intertwined fervently.

 

“ _Craaash_!”

 

“Wh-” Seongwoo’s eyes widened, turning toward the floor, “The plates-” The King had swiped his arm across the table roughly, causing the pretty little saucers to fly toward their doom.

 

“My castle,” Daniel grunted in response before pinning the concubine to the newly open table.

  
Seongwoo’s heart jumped into his throat. He hardly had time to lend much thought to anything else. The concubine gasped when teeth gripped bare skin where is ear met his neck. The rough ministration quickly transitioned into soothing licks and kisses. The concubine pressed his lips firmly together to hold back the noises rising in his throat. Daniel’s nuzzled Seongwoo’s neck, pressing a few more chaste kisses downward before sinking his teeth in once more. He sucked at the skin, drawing blood to the surface. Ong could hear the clipped breaths coming from Daniel; he anticipated the other would shed his inner restraint more and more. He hoped for it.

 

Since their acknowledgment of reciprocation, the two had been much more open in expressing themselves. Daniel had been, as always, stoical. He’d seemed to learn fairly quickly (even prior to Seongwoo spilling his guts) that waiting worked best. Seongwoo would come on his own terms, and pushing would only result in resentment and ire. The two exercised patience in acquainting with one another (relatively speaking). Daniel had always made sure not to invade territory that hadn’t yet been touched. A silent knowledge hung between them: Seongwoo would invite the other when ready.

 

“A-ah,” Seongwoo inhaled sharply when Daniel nibbled at the skin beneath his collarbone. He threw his head back onto the dark wooden table beneath him, and his back arched. Daniel pushed further above him, pressing their bodies flush. Seongwoo could feel his hardness through the layers of fabric between them, and it made the sparks in his chest ignite, migrating into his gut. The concubine ran his hand through his majesty’s hair, petting and combing it through aimlessly.

 

Though fire burned in his belly, the concubine felt a strange spell of serenity pass over him. For a few moments, he felt content. Nothing immediately threatened him, nor did responsibilities yank him every which way. There was no danger in sight or earshot. It was just him and Daniel. Lips closed around the concubine’s earlobe again, making him shiver. Afterward, a weight lifted off of him; Daniel propped himself up on his elbows to admire his handiwork.

 

The King’s finger traced the line of new love bites he’d littered the other’s complexion with. It ran along the concubine’s jawline and down his neck until meeting the neckline of his shirt. His majesty’s mouth hung open ever so slightly; Seongwoo could see the shade in the man’s eyes as his finger roamed further down. It gave him goosebumps.

 

Daniel’s lips met Seongwoo’s again, and the two let their tongues explore the other once more. The sugary sweetness of the confections still lingered ever so slightly on the concubine’s tongue. Meanwhile, Daniel’s hands busied themselves elsewhere. While one remained firmly planted beside Seongwoo on the table, the other wandered.

 

Another shiver ran over Seongwoo, and he realized it wasn’t just from pleasure.

 

Daniel had tugged at the lacing that kept the other’s tunic closed. The neckline dipped fairly low, even with a jerkin layered on top, and without the snugly tied knot at the top, the tunic’s fabric quickly fell to the wayside. His majesty’s lips traveled once more. He discarded his typical patience and slid the shirt aside where he desired to mark next. Teeth nibbled at the concubine’s tender pectoral, and it caused the one beneath to jump in surprise. Seongwoo’s toes curled at the sensation, and he did not bother to suppress his low moan.

 

The King greeded more, yanking the fabric of the tunic along with the leather vest aside. His spare hand ran down Seongwoo’s side, planting itself at his hip. Daniel lapped and nipped his way across Seongwoo’s chest until he found what he’d wanted to. His lips closed around Seongwoo’s nipple, and he flicked at it with his tongue.

 

“M-mn-” Seongwoo’s vocalizations were stunted. A hand snapped to cover his mouth reflexively, even though he knew he had no reason to act prideful in the situation. Heat poured over the concubine’s body, and his growing erection twitched desirously. It’d happened so fast that it caused his head to reel.

 

Dizzying pleasure blurred his mind. He almost felt embarrassed to react in such a way to something relatively minor. It only spoke to how much he truly craved the man on top of him. Daniel seemed to relish in the other’s tweaking. It spurred him further, and he sucked on the nib until it swelled from the attention.

 

Contradictory feelings began bubbling up in the concubine’s chest. On the most basic level, he felt pleasure and lust. He wanted more. Yet, even after so much progress had been made, some sort of reservation stuck stubbornly in his head. The spells of disenchantment came and went quickly as Daniel swapped sides, running his tongue along the concubine’s other pec.

 

Fingers dipped beneath the concubine’s breeches, and Seongwoo shuddered in response. His throat constricted slightly. The King’s fingers moved languorously along his concubine’s skin while his tongue worked. His hand, content to gradually take in the sensation of the other beneath him. Seongwoo’s chest started bobbing erratically. He tried to relish in the way the other’s lips so hungrily lapped and nipped and sucked at bare skin.

 

Yet, something had soured within him.

 

His majesty’s lips traveled down, as did his hands. One remained at Seongwoo’s pelvis, gently sliding his breeches down. The other looped around, rubbing circles in the concubine’s lower back. He hummed contentedly nosing at the concubine’s chest in alternation with peppering kisses.

 

“Daniel,” Seongwoo murmured. His words had barely been audible, and it came as little surprise that the King did not hear them. Dread began chilling the heat that had once stirred in the concubine’s gut. He could not precisely place why, but something felt wrong. It was not as if he and Daniel hadn’t been physically close before. So why, Seongwoo wondered, is it that now ill feelings are being dredged up?

 

Daniel moved back up to Seongwoo’s neck, gently nuzzling the spots which he’d marked earlier. The signs of his territory. One of his thumbs rubbed circles on Seongwoo’s hip bone while the other hand sluggishly slid down the back of his pants.

 

“D-Daniel,” Seongwoo muttered. He’d stopped leaning into the sensation, going statue still. The shaking of his body no longer denoted pleasure, but a growing sense of disconcertment. He wanted to do something, to act out more insistently, more explicitly. However, he felt strangely powerless to do so. He felt paralyzed.

 

“Seongwoo,” Daniel finally replied, breath tickling the other’s skin. He took Seongwoo’s earlobe between his lips, nibbling gently. Seongwoo loved it, or, he typically did. However, his enjoyment had faltered, replaced with anxiety.

 

“Daniel, I-” The words caught in the concubine’s throat. He wanted to utter them badly. Instead, his throat closed around them. His heart raced not with elation but with nerves. Something felt wrong, terribly, terribly wrong.

 

Yet also familiar.

 

“Yes, my sweet?” The King had been captured in a trance by the other’s presence. He spoke yet showed little indication of hearing.

 

“Daniel, wait,” Seongwoo hoarsely managed. Even he, the person who’d spoken, hardly understood himself.

 

“Hm?” His majesty’s fingers ghosted over his pelvic area, eliciting another shiver.

 

“I said w-wait,” He muttered again with little more volume.

 

“You need to speak up, love,” Daniel punctuated his words with a kiss on the collarbone.

 

The edges of Seongwoo’s vision began to swim, and his chest began sputtering with uneven breaths,“I said, please, can you- can you-”

 

His highness’s other wandering hand, the one that had settled on the concubine’s low back, moved further. In one swift move, Daniel cupped Seongwoo’s ass, giving it a gentle squeeze.

 

Ong pleaded,“Daniel, would you please, w-w-” Simultaneously, the King’s other hand snuck between his concubine’s thighs. Just the faintest brush against the concubine’s inner thigh served as enough fuel to ignite full panic.

 

Ugly memories rapidly surfaced in his head: Duke Hwang eagerly inviting himself to partake in Seongwoo. The way the man eyed him like a slab of meat; how his hands drifted and wandered as they pleased.

 

“Get off!” The concubine shouted, roughly pushing the King away from him. Breathing proved difficult, impeded by the feeling of venom stemming from his heart. Tears stung his eyes which further obscured his already swimming vision. His heart hammered against his ribcage painfully.

 

It took a few moments for Seongwoo to collect himself to adequate lucidity. He blinked, looking up at the man in front of him. Daniel merely looked on with devastation. His majesty’s hand slowly rose to cover his mouth.

 

“Seongwoo,” The King said in a soft voice, “A-are you alright? Are you hurt? Did I-” He choked up at his self-implication, “Did I hurt you?”

 

“I’m- You-” Seongwoo struggled to find the words to express what had just happened. He felt immensely ashamed. He thought he’d locked those thoughts away and buried them deep inside himself. After leaving the man’s room that night, the concubine had promised himself that he’d never let the Duke hurt him again. He had no reason to fear Duke Hwang, not with the King by his side, not if he avoided the Duke.

 

Or so he’d thought.

 

The man had once again vexed him. He wondered precisely how long it had been since their encounter. It had to have been nearly two months. Two months during which so many things had happened and changed. Ong questioned himself: why does the man maintain his malevolent grasp?

 

What wounded Seongwoo further was the fact that, in lashing out, he knew he’d ultimately hurt Daniel. He’d promised so very little to the man (he had little to give), but the one thing he’d vowed was his commitment. He had promised that he wouldn’t turn tail and run, he’d given his word. Bitterness mixed with shame upon the realization that he had done just that. It further spurned him knowing how badly he truly yearned for the King. He _wanted_ Daniel. He did not panic due to lack of desire, but because of the obstruction of another force. Seongwoo had spent so much time keeping himself away from Daniel; it hadn’t occurred to him that other factors would come into play.

 

It hurt.

 

Everything about it pained him.

 

He had not expected rainbows and butterflies upon yielding to his desires for Daniel. He hadn’t thought that their mutually acknowledged emotions would guarantee any sort of security for him, even. Seongwoo had prayed for one thing: simple reciprocation. I want you, you want me. We want each other, and so we will be with one another. He did not delude himself into believing any sort of happy outcome, but he’d at least hoped that he could have the freedom to feel. Just to feel.

 

Of course, as things had always been in Castle Jeon, it appeared that even that one desire could not be accomplished. Nothing could ever be easy.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m- I’m not ready,” Seongwoo sputtered out. He swiftly corrected his clothing which had been untied and pulled in every which way before dashing out of the galley.

 

“Seongwoo, wait-” Daniel reached out only to recoil his hand immediately. He looked on in dismay as the other left. Calling after the concubine’s disappearing form, he hollered, “It’s okay!”

 

Those were the last words Seongwoo heard before ascending the steps in haste.

 

* * *

 

Nobles shuffled about manically to try and get a good view of the approaching coaches. It appeared that nearly a hundred people had arrived to look upon the spectacle. Many more could be seen standing in the windows, gawking.

 

General Park Jihoon stood near King Daniel dutifully, hands braced behind him, back straight. He, too, was eager to meet the Bae family for the first time; however, his reasoning likely differed from what the other airheaded nobles' intentions. He imagined most wanted to dote upon the new royalty, kissing up to the best of their ability in hopes of gaining favor. Some, perhaps, merely wanted raw material to fuel the production of more hallway gossip and rumors. Many nobles had arrived merely so they could tell others that they had been there. The General wanted to roll his eyes, but he refrained.

 

The clack of hooves grew in volume as the Bae’s carriage grew nearer. The Empire’s royal family had clearly spared no expense in their travels. Drawing the carriage were four pristine, beautifully decorated white horses. The coach they pulled along was a vivid green shade, and General Park could even make out floral carvings on the panels.

 

He glanced at Daniel who stood statuesque as ever, looking straight down the aisle way that had been cleared for the Baes. Next to him stood Advisor Yoon Jisung. He, too, looked like a statue, but not in the graceful way Daniel did. The man looked like stone. His eyes looked forward at nothing in particular, and his mouth had fixed itself into a frown.

 

It did not take someone of particularly high wit to see the cold rift that had formed between the King and his Advisor. The two typically conversed with ease and regarded each other warmly. General Park had not seen any such interaction since the two had tiffed in the war room; not even once. Jihoon thought, in all honesty, it served Advisor Yoon right for attempting to tell his majesty how he ought to live his life. However, the man knew that the man was merely doing his job. He held no ill will toward Jisung. He was quite fond of the man, actually, but seeing the chilly air between himself and his majesty irked the General. Jihoon felt relieved that at least one among them was excited. A tiny smile sat on Prince Daehwi’s lips; for what reason, Jihoon did not know. He envied the other’s youth.

 

A herald’s bellowing voice interrupted General Park’s musings. The older man called out:

 

“Lords and Ladies of Kang Court!” He yelled out, “Please welcome the arrival of Queen Bae Irene and Prince Bae Jinyoung, the sovereign family of the Bae Empire, to our court!”

 

Every eye in the yard shot to the carriage.

 

A coachman opened the door and extended a hand, helping out a stunning woman: Queen Irene. The woman lived up to what the rumors had said. She looked like a doll made of porcelain. Her deep green travel dress trailed behind her beautifully she glided down the aisle toward his majesty, King Daniel.

 

Behind her, another climbed out, her brother. General Park’s nearly dropped at the sight of Prince Bae Jinyoung. The young man had a face the size of a kitten’s. He blinked excessively, and his pupils dashed about. Jihoon watched carefully. When Prince Jinyoung’s eyes finally settled, they’d found a spot down the aisle. General Park followed the other’s eyes. The young man’s gaze did not fall upon King Daniel but upon none other than Prince Daehwi. Jihoon wondered if the two had met when Daehwi traveled for his studies. His lips subtly pursed as he thought about the Bae line in general.

 

General Park had been skeptical of the Bae family prior to their arrival. While he loved the idea of increased naval power, he could not help wondering why they had never reached out of their own accord. The Bae Empire had never been an ally nor enemy of any nation. They were a small country that kept to themselves. Yet, they’d still opted to invest heavily into their naval fleet. Being a coastal nation, it was not entirely baffling. However, from the intelligence Jihoon had gathered, a nation of their size did not warrant nearly as many ships as his inside knowledge told him they had.

 

And why, at now of all times, had they chosen to accept the offering of association? General Park knew with certainty that it hadn’t been the first time that his home country had attempted to establish an alliance. The Bae Empire seemed to live in isolation. They accepted few guests, and their countrymen seldom left. Jihoon found it hard to believe that such a small country was truly self-sufficient. The winters up north were surely harsh.

 

The more thought he had put toward it, the stranger and less amiable the Bae family appeared. They’d broken nearly a century of silence and left their isolation, but for what reason?

 

General Park watched on, the cogs in his head turning diligently. King Daniel greeted the Baes with the utmost etiquette and offered to show them in. As the Baes walked through the massive doors of Castle Jeon’s main entrance, the crowd quickly began to disperse.

 

The General decided to tag along. He needed to see who those people were by his own experience and not the word of others.

 

* * *

 

After an afternoon of running around, Seongwoo dropped onto his bed with a soft “pomf” noise. The concubine frowned into his silken covers which had been previously tucked neatly into their original form. His stomach dipped, and he clasped at the once pristinely made bed. Only his pillows were present to hear his loud groan, an adequate expression of how he felt in that moment.

 

Organizing the Harvest Festival had been a more daunting undertaking than he’d ever imagined. He held no remorse for accepting the challenge, but it did take a toll on him. However, physical exhaustion was not what vexed him. The concubine stood upright, crossing the room to sit in the chair by his window.

 

He glanced out the glass pane. Tiny figures milled about like ants. They scurried to erect tents and arrange structures. In the distance, he could see partitioned clearings set for tennis and badminton. He’d discussed jousting with a few of the stablemen earlier, and a few could be seen with horses in tow, likely selecting which ones were to be ridden. The green leaves of the shrubs and trees surrounding the castle no longer shied away. They had eagerly unfurled, ready to drink up the warm season’s worth of rains and sunlight. His fingers idly traced the leather collar around his neck while he sat in contemplation.

 

Daniel.

 

What weighed heavily on his mind was how he’d left things off with Daniel. He’d felt that ever since their near brush with death, the man had occupied more and more of his thoughtspace. Seongwoo thought that when he’d come to terms with his feelings (at least in part) it would remedy his ailing mind. To his inconvenience, it did not. The King still lingered stubbornly in his thoughts. He would think about Daniel when planning the festival; he’d think things such as “What would Daniel think?” or “Daniel will enjoy this”. He did not dupe himself into believing that accepting Daniel would fix his problems. He merely hadn’t anticipated that it would create more. At least, not in the way it had.

 

Seongwoo wrung a hand through his hair, letting out an unhappy sigh. His body seemed to refuse to cooperate with him. He felt as if it, along with his memories, betrayed him. The two of them combined conspired against any form of contentment he could possibly feel. Part of him wondered if it was for the best, but in the short-term, it frustrated him to no end.

 

He wanted to be close to Daniel in so many ways. At least, that was what his base craving had been. Had he the ability to choose, he would never have dreamed of choosing to care for the King of his enemy; but, he did. It vexed him knowing that, upon acknowledging his desires and attempting to act on them, he’d managed to invite more anguish. As appealing as the prospect of an afternoon wallowing in sadness sounded, Ong had another engagement.

 

With another groan, the concubine crossed his room to his dressing table. He scrutinized the variety of small casks and ornate little silver boxes full of cosmetics. The concubine doubted he could replicate the head maid’s work, but he decided to make an attempt. Nothing less than excellence would be deemed acceptable. Not for Queen Irene and her brother, the Prince.

 

Seongwoo frowned at his reflection.

 

He looked the same as always.

 

Dark hair, dark eyes, fair complexion. A few blotches of color stained his neck and collarbone, marks of Daniel’s presence. His fingers ghosted over them. How, he wondered, could one look so regular on the outside while feeling so rotten just beneath the surface? No matter how hard he searched, nothing externally denoted the way venom ran through his veins when panic began to strike. Nobody could see his motivations, his duties, and his feelings all pulling him in different directions.

 

It played into his favor, ultimately. He relied on that layer of secrecy, the supposed contentment that showed on the outside. Still, he thought, perhaps it would be nice for one to be able to read his thoughts for once. It would have saved him the trouble of attempting to express them. He would not have needed to shove someone away; they would know to simply avoid him.

 

“ _Knock. Knock._ ”

 

Seongwoo turned to face his door, and a servant entered. He frowned, half hoping to see that Eunji had edged her way into delivery duty; however, he knew the woman had been kept just as busy as he in the past week.

 

“The evening’s attire,” The servant said with a shallow bow.

 

The concubine nodded politely, “Thank you. Lay it on the bed, please.”

 

“There is lacing on the back of the doublet as well as the sides, sir. If you would allow me, I think it best you have aid dressing for this particular coordinate.” The man said. Seongwoo frowned but mounted no protest.

 

“Very well, then,” He muttered, getting up from the stool he’d been sitting in.

 

The only talk between the two men for the ensuing quarter hour consisted of brief mutters. Seongwoo took his shirt off, and another would be thrown over his head. The servant would tell the concubine to lift his arm to which he would say “okay”. The man would ask him to suck his gut in to cinch his waist (to which Ong would not respond verbally due to his organs being pinched). Seongwoo felt grateful for the man’s formality. He showed no urge to needle him about his majesty nor did he make any offensive or perverse comments. It was more than Ong could say about half the castle staff. When the man had finally finished Seongwoo, he dismissed himself politely and departed.

 

Ong sighed.

 

He looked at his reflection again to check the coordinate he’d been given for the evening. King Daniel had apparently opted for a deep blue color for the evening. Suede alternated with silk panels that had been cut in stripes. The pin-tucked silk descended down the front of the body at an inward angle, making an insinuated “V” shape out of his body. Seongwoo wondered if it was him being a concubine or merely a stylistic choice that made the tip of the “V” so suggestively point downwards. He would have rolled his eyes had he not conceded that it looked comely. The doublet had a wide square neckline that plunged nearly halfway down his chest, and painted blotches of purple and red stuck out even more in contrast to his skin. The breeches were simple but impeccably tailored to fit his body.

 

Daniel would likely be wearing something complimentary again, Ong thought.

 

He remembers how drastically different things had been the last time he’d been in that position. How he’d feared what would happen when his majesty came through the door. The anger, the confusion, all of it had made him feel like a cornered animal. How things had changed. Seongwoo had stopped shoving Daniel away; at least, he’d tried to. Now, it was not personal resistances that created distance between them, but his fears. Ugly things resurfacing just in the nick of time to deny him any sort of respite.

 

Soon, he thought just as the last time, he will be here to collect me. Still, he felt no more ready to face Daniel than he had the previous time. Not after how they’d parted ways. He wondered if it was for the best that the two remain distant.

 

Perhaps God had continuously driven wedges between them for a reason.

 

* * *

 

“Seongwoo,” A familiar voice regarded the concubine all too soon. Ong’s heart nearly jumped out his throat when he turned to look at his majesty.

 

Daniel looked breathtaking. It never ceased to amaze Seongwoo the multitude of ways in which the man could look handsome. He was a sight to behold when yawning in the morning, and he looked stunning going about day to day business. With the conjoined efforts of servants and ateliers, his result could be likened to that of an ancient God. Dark kohl had been painted around his eyes to emphasize them, and his hair had been combed neatly to flash just a touch of his perfectly proportioned forehead. Just as before, his coordinate had been what drew inspiration for Seongwoo’s. The man also wore midnight blue, but he looked to be ten thousand times richer. The silver buttons on his doublet appeared to have been polished diligently for hours, and Seongwoo saw three types of trim on the slotted sleeves alone. Perhaps most striking was the pendant around his neck. He’d been outfitted especially elaborate necklace and the way it caught the light nearly blinded Seongwoo.

 

Seongwoo, after seeing how he’d been outfitted, had managed to motivate himself slightly. He’d put in a small amount of effort, lightly dusting alabaster on himself and doing the slimmest line of black on his eyelid one could possibly imagine. He felt peasant-like next to his majesty, but the look on the man’s face revealed he did not share the thought.

 

“You look beautiful,” Daniel cooed, closing the gap. He clasped the concubine’s hands in his own tightly, placing a soft kiss upon them.

 

No strange looks, no accusations, no mention of what had happened mere hours earlier. Ong felt as if it ought to be addressed, but he felt thankful that it wasn’t. He did not know if he could speak of such things openly. How could he tell the person he admired that his fear of intimacy stemmed from his own foolhardy mistake?

 

“Thank you,” The concubine replied. Despite his anxiousness, he felt a genuine smile cross his lips. Embarrassment still intermingled with his feelings of affection, but it had lessened gradually over their short time together. “I do not compare to you by any means.”

 

“You are right about that, you’re ten thousand times more divine than I could wish to be.”

 

Seongwoo nearly rolled his eyes at the comment, but he laughed instead. He imagined that thousands of noble girls dreamed of being told such a thing by King Daniel. It merely made him feel embarrassed on behalf of the other. (Embarrassed and, perhaps just the slightest bit flattered.)

 

“Come,” Daniel stuck his hand out, “We best be on our way.”

 

Ong eyed the extended hand hesitantly, “Am I not to walk at your side. With- with a…” He pressed his lips together.

 

“Do you intend on punching any members of nobility?” Daniel asked.

 

Seongwoo shook his head.

 

“Then I see no reason for you to have a tether, even if only cosmetic. When we grow near the Centrale Ballroom then you will have to let go but for now… I would like to hold hands with the person I cherish most.”

 

The concubine could hardly see fit to argue with such logic, and, with hesitance, he took the extended hand. To his relief, no immediate spur of worry or nervousness washed over him. A good sign, he hoped. Maybe, he thought, the fit of anxiety had only been a one time issue. He prayed that to be the case. Seongwoo flexed his fingers, interlocking them with Daniel’s. He could feel the other’s thumb stroke the top of his own, and something about the gesture comforted him immensely.

 

He wagered that, perhaps, he could brave the engagement after all.

 

He hoped so.

 

* * *

 

String music echoed across the Centrale Ballroom of Castle Jeon. Only the finest and most elaborate of halls had been deemed suitable to greet the prestigious guests from the Bae Kingdom. Throngs of courtiers poured into the grand double doors that provided the threshold between castle and fairy tale.

 

Seongwoo’s eyes widened upon entering the space, and his jaw dropped. Manners were forgotten as he scrutinized every painstakingly realized detail in the space. The place dwarfed any single room he had seen in his life. Detail began at the top of the room. Above gallivanting nobles was an extravagantly decorated barrel vaulted ceiling. The surface had been painted a midnight blue and dotted with flecks of silver and gold, stars. Gleaming gold trim created jutting star shapes, and from them hung massive golden lanterns. No doubt some poor servant had to scamper up scaffolding to light them.

 

The ceiling’s gold trimming extended onto the walls, forming arches around long windows through which light poured in. Just beneath the windows, another line of opulent gold trims separate glass from painted tapestries. Starting at the west side of the room, depictions of war and triumph lined the walls, painted on large panels of pristine silk. The amount of color and detail on each textile astounded Seongwoo. Complex techniques had even been employed to make some of the images appear to exist in three dimensions. Gleaming white and blue tile reflected the facsimile of the night sky above. Light bounced riotously off of nearly every surface, for no corner of the room had been left unadorned. Elegant chairs lined the walls along with a few sitting tables. Never had the concubine seen such a pure distillation of richness.

 

Courtiers sipped bubbling wine out of faceted crystal glasses. A portion of the tiled floor had been cleared, no doubt for dancing. Servants had been outfitted with their finest attire, and the concubines who’d arrived were outfitted lavishly. Unequaled pageantry reigned supreme at the engagement.

 

Sickness stirred in Seongwoo’s gut as he looked around. A terrible sense of familiarity set in as he walked by King Daniel’s side. The celebration had been held in a different, much grander ballroom; however, little else differed. Nobles gleefully chatted arm in arm. People danced, laughed, and drank without care. Jewels sparkled in the light, dazzling the concubine. Everyone looked so ecstatic. Voices intermingled and entangled, entering the concubine’s ears as a droning buzz. It made his head begin to ache.

 

When King and concubine had reached the open doors, the people quieted. The concubine felt grateful for an iota of a second when a hush fell over the crowd. Everyone in the room turned to regard his royal majesty, King Daniel. The collective of nobility and servants alike bowed in respect. The hush that had fallen over the room made it so even the skittering of a mouse could be heard. His majesty gave the room a nod, and in an instant, the spell over the room lifted. He regarded his court with a polite smile before advancing in, concubine at his side.

 

Seongwoo followed obediently. He attempted to keep his eyes cast down. He’d told himself it was to make things easy on Daniel. His last wish was to bring more misfortune upon himself for minor breaches of etiquette. Part of him valued the additional benefit of not seeing if people looked at him. The last time he’d arrived at a party to welcome someone, things had turned steeply south. He couldn’t help but think that prying noble eyes were on him.

 

King Daniel and his concubine reached the back of the room, and Daniel took his seat at the intricately constructed throne. Seongwoo, as he had before, stood at his side, ever so slightly behind.

 

The position bothered him immensely, and nerves quickly began to set in, creeping up his stomach, into his chest. He wanted to talk to Daniel. The grandiose room filled him with immense curiosity and awe, and he wanted to share that. He desired to laugh and dance and drink with Daniel, just as the other nobles did together. Before, he’d only wanted to keep his head down, to survive. His position and role wounded him due to how it endangered him. Now, Seongwoo felt despair for another reason.

 

Such beauty and festivity had been set out for all to enjoy; yet, he could not share it with the one with whom he desired to.

 

It was one thing for a count or duke to be seen with a concubine draped over them, feeding them or dancing with them. Even a young lady could be so bold as to invite a concubine for a dance. But his majesty the King? The sovereign ruler had diplomatic duties beyond enjoyment. People would question him if he were to spend the entire evening isolated. Truthfully, Seongwoo did not greed so strongly that he wanted to monopolize the man’s time. It still hurt him to stand aside like a prop, regardless.

 

Abruptly, the storm of conversation came to a halt once more. The crowd that had been dancing and chatting parted again parted politely. King Daniel stood up to regard the new entrants of the room.

 

Queen Bae Irene and her younger brother, Prince Jinyoung, darkened the Centrale Ballroom’s massive doorway. Queen Irene looked absolutely sublime. The emerald green dress she wore had been embroidered with gold silk thread in a meticulous damask pattern. Intricate ruffles billowed from her sleeves, cinched in with complimentary gold buttons. Her jewels matched impeccably. While clearly rich, they were not excessively large, so as to not take away from her natural beauty. Pearls, gems, and tiny rings of gold had been intertwined with her tied back hair, catching the light. Her skin looked beautifully fair which made the glowing pink on her cheeks stand out becomingly. Topping her head was a small filigree crown set in with complimentary stones.

 

Next to her walked a young man with perhaps the smallest face Seongwoo had ever seen. Prince Jinyoung’s lips in their natural state came together in a heart-shaped pout. He wore a coordinate similar to his sister’s in a darker hue of green. His doublet had been woven with a smaller, more detailed pattern of florals, and down the middle was a row of gold buttons.

 

Seongwoo, despite himself, felt a pressure exerted by their presence. They looked intimidating. Though neither wore a particularly fierce expression (on the contrary, both looked rather serene), something about them made him nervous. He’d heard whisperings about the Bae Empire but knew very little about them. He supposed that he was about to find out exactly the type of people they were firsthand. Queen Irene gave a nod to the room, and the respectful reverence dissolved once more. She and Prince Jinyoung glided toward the end of the room to meet with his majesty. The concubine swallowed nervously, and his hands fidgeted behind his back.

 

“Good evening, your majesty, Prince Jinyoung,” Daniel greeted politely. Though not prompted, Seongwoo had a hunch that he ought to bow in a queen’s presence, so he did just that.

 

“Blessed evening to you, Daniel,” Irene greeted back. Prince Jinyoung bowed to the King for his response.

 

“Thank you for accepting our invitation,” The King said with a courteous, close-lipped grin.

 

“My brother and I are most grateful to have received it. Right, Jinyoung?”

 

“Y-yes, most grateful,” The Bae Prince muttered, his eyes cast down. His voice had hardly been audible, and Seongwoo almost pitied the boy. He looked even less comfortable than the concubine, a legitimate accomplishment.

 

“The pleasure is all ours. Have you had a chance to see all the castle grounds, yet?”

 

“We have toured the interior, yes. However, my brother and  I have yet to see the gardens.”

 

“Unfortunate you did not have time today! They are truly a sight to behold, especially when the sun is shining. As of right now they are a work in progress with festival preparations, so perhaps it is best you wait.”

 

“Oh- We are most excited for the unveiling of the festival. Aren’t we, Jinyoung?” Irene turned to her coy brother again with a smile.

 

“Y-Yes. We, um, we have heard others speak of the Harvest Festival. It seems to be, um, quite- quite-”

 

Irene interjected,“Though we have many celebrations, we do not have a tradition quite like it where we are from.”

 

“Then it’s quite exciting that you shall get to experience it for the first time with us!” Daniel clapped his hands together.

 

The conversation went on in a similar fashion for what felt like an hour. Seongwoo considered hanging himself. Polite conversation had taken on a new meaning between the monarchs of the two territories. The cycle repeated itself indefinitely: Daniel being grateful and polite, Queen Irene responding politely, prodding her brother, and Prince Jinyoung choking out an answer with a miserable look on his face.

 

Prince Jinyoung, Seongwoo decided, had been the most entertaining part of the entire discussion. He nearly felt guilty finding amusement in it. The poor thing may have been the shyest person Seongwoo had ever seen. He kept his onyx eyes fixed on the tile in the ground, and it appeared he almost consciously avoided conversation.

 

Conversation droned on, a boring exchange of politeness. Seongwoo wasn’t sure how long he’d stood there. He hadn’t even been introduced, and it started to dawn on him that it was because he wasn’t important enough.

 

“Your majesty,” Daniel extended a hand to Queen Irene, “May I have a dance?”

 

Queen Irene flashed a dazzling smile and took his hand, “I would be honored.”

 

Seongwoo had to stop his face from immediately warping into an expression of gall. King Daniel and Queen Irene walked- no, they floated toward the dance floor, and the crowd parted for them. When the two reached the middle of the dance floor, out of earshot, Seongwoo huffed.

 

He’d forgotten about Prince Jinyoung.

 

The concubine’s eyes widened, and he coughed loudly in an attempt to dupe the boy. Prince Jinyoung studied the concubine for a moment. He looked more afraid of the man next to him than anything else. The poor creature opened his mouth to say something but closed it. He paced away quickly without a word.

 

Seongwoo rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long night.

 

* * *

 

Bubbly giggling roused Seongwoo from his daze. The King had departed to dance with Queen Irene some time ago - had it been a quarter hour? Half an hour? The concubine did not know. Time crawled along slothishly for him. Unlike his previous court engagement, he’d opted not to drink this time around. He decided it for the best, lest he shoved his foot up some pervy noble’s ass. He felt grateful that the Baes at least seemed to be civilized people. Aside from courteous questions, no comments had been made about his aptitude beneath the sheets. The two were polite, and the Prince was almost amusingly coy. He noted how pathetic it was that he considered such behavior refreshing.

 

Relative etiquette aside, the Baes were nothing special. At least, not to Seongwoo. Kang Court seemed to disagree; they flocked King Daniel and Queen Irene who chatted animatedly in the center of a mob. The nobles hung on their every word, and thunderous laughter would erupt every so often. Seongwoo had spent a small period of time dutifully by his majesty’s side, but he remained in place when the man had gone to dance. Since doing so, he’d apparently gotten swept across the room. Ong had felt no inclination to be another person clamoring at the pair of rulers.

 

Strangely enough, one person was noticeably absent from the entire spectacle: Prince Jinyoung. Seongwoo had searched for him initially. He’d even suspected that the boy had fled to his bedchambers to run away from the entire mess. Seongwoo would not have blamed him, had that been the case. However, his eyes had eventually found Prince Jinyoung. Tucked in a shadowy corner, he stood, speaking animatedly with another familiar noble: Prince Daehwi. Ong supposed it made sense. The two were equal of rank and close in age. They likely had much to relate to. Still, Ong thought it interesting that the boy had chosen to speak to the prince, isolated from everyone else, instead of the incredibly important monarch halfway across the ballroom. It had baffled him seeing Prince Jinyoung transform. The boy who’d spent the entire first portion of the evening staring at the tiles was laughing and smiling. The two actually made quite a handsome young pair, Seongwoo had thought in passing before his most prevailing distraction had come along.

 

The concubine turned with a quirked eyebrow toward the girlish snickering. Two young noblewomen marched up to him, hand in hand.

 

“Seongwoo!” Yeri cheered happily. The girl next to her waved at him. Red spanned the cheeks of both girls, and, paired with Yeri’s subtle slur, Ong could discern from whence it came. “Seongwoo meet my friend!” The young girl beamed.

 

Seongwoo smiled, delighted to have not only a distraction but a friendly one at that, “My Lady! What an absolute pleasure to see you here.” He took her hand and bowed, giving it a kiss. “Please,” He turned to the other girl, “Let me introduce myself. I am Seongwoo, the King’s ward.”

 

The unfamiliar noble girl grinned at him and waved. She stood about a head taller than Yeri. Her dress appeared richer as well, but she did not seem exceedingly older. Her most distinct quality was the set of pouty lips on her face. Judging by the way her hair had been styled, dotted with little pearls and stones, he concluded that she’d come with Queen Irene.

 

“This is my new friend,” Yeri said, “Lady Joy of Bae Court. She is one of Queen Irene’s ladies-in-waiting. Isn’t that incredible!” She clapped happily. The other girl, Joy, seemed absolutely thrilled at Yeri’s enthusiasm. Seongwoo envied the two. Happy, beautiful, rich and drunk; what more could one want?

 

“It is an honor to meet someone who so diligently serves her Queen,” Seongwoo said, regarding the woman with a bow. The name of Joy suited the woman, because when she smiled it lit her entire face up.

 

“And I am blessed to meet you as well, Seongwoo,” She replied.

 

“Dance with us!” Yeri demanded suddenly.

 

“Yes, please do! Yeri has told me you are an excellent dancer,” Joy added.

 

The concubine laughed at the abrupt invitation, “Who am I to deny a beautiful woman a dance?” The two cheeped like birds with jaunty laughter at the compliments.

 

“Oh- Joy first, Joy first! She must witness your skills firsthand,” Yeri clapped, “We can swap off- Unless,” Her voice got mischievous and low, “You cannot handle two ladies at once.” She snorted.

 

“I am capable of handling anything given the proper accompaniment,” Seongwoo answered cooly. The noble ladies gasped. “Lady Joy?” The concubine extended his arm, and the lady-in-waiting took it with glee. The two glided toward the middle of the dance floor, and Yeri followed at their heels.

 

Court musicians strummed out a jaunty tune in major chords, dictating the crowd of people to dance the allemande. Seongwoo and Joy began customarily, hand in hand, and began bouncing in time to the string instruments that echoed across the ballroom. Due to the sheer number of nobles that had flocked to the room, their allemande had to remain rather confined. While it sacrificed the authenticity of the joyful dance, the proximity made for better conversation.

 

“So, Seongwoo,” Joy started the conversation, “Tell me about yourself. What’s it like, being a concubine to a King?”

 

Seongwoo had to think about how to answer the question within the realm of appropriateness, “It is an interesting role to have in the Kingdom. You see sides of your Master that others may not.”

 

“I imagine you do! Being a lady-in-waiting is similar in that aspect. You are more than just a servant or a handmaid. You are a companion.”

 

“Precisely!” Seongwoo gave the woman a grin. In reality, he imagined the similarity of their roles to stop there. While a lady-in-waiting did need to provide companionship, he doubted that the comfort they were meant to give compared to his own role.

 

“I could never imagine having concubines about the castle, though,” Joy mused aloud, “I wonder if that’s an adjustment his majesty will make with ease. The Bae Empire is quite conservative. You may not guess it from seeing her majesty, but the people are generally quite… Cold.” She laughed.

 

“Cold?” Seongwoo couldn’t help but feel interested. “How so? If I may ask.”

 

“Well,” Joy looked up. She struggled to think and bounce in time to the music simultaneously while drunk, “Just not as friendly. You lot are so friendly. Perhaps that’s a direct result of your presence though.”

 

“Mine?” Ong animatedly pointed to himself.

 

“The concubines, silly!” Joy laughed, “Maybe Bae people are so frigid because they just need to release their tension. Yeri- Now- Yeri she is nice.” Alcohol visibly swept Joy’s thoughts in various directions. “I like Yeri very much. Very, very much. She’s not a rich girl, you know- I mean, not like us, but she is nice. And friendly and kind. Not like the blowhards back home.” Hearing the newly met noble girl fawn over Yeri made Ong almost feel like an older brother, happy for his little sister. He thought Yeri had always been a breath of fresh air, and hearing someone else say it made him glad.

 

“Yeri is incredibly kind. I am left to wonder about the state of affairs in Bae court if what you say is true.”

 

“Oh, it is, trust me. People are not… Boring per se, but everyone keeps awful quiet. And everyone is so proper. Not like here where you’ve got girls gambling and boys kissing and- and- dancing- Did I tell you Yeri is so nice.”

 

Seongwoo held back loud laughter, “You did. Well, I am glad that in your short time, Kang Court has already treated you well.”

 

“Yes, you all have, and that King? He is scrumptious isn’t he- oh! He is your Master. You already knew that! Queen Irene has mixed feelings, though. Everyone’s got their eyes on them for marriage, but it’s a dreadful match wouldn’t you think?” The concubine raised his eyebrows curiously. For a lady-in-waiting of all people to regard the two as a “dreadful match” made him entirely more giddy than it ought to have. He badly wanted to pry and ask what made her think so.

 

“My turn!” Yeri popped in precisely at that moment.

 

“Oh, Yeri, love! You were right, Seongwoo is a dream to dance with. Not like most men who are stiff as boards,” Every last ounce of Joy’s attention immediately diverted to the other girl as she entered the picture.

 

“I would not dream of deceiving you, Lady Joy,” Yeri said.

 

“Oh, please, call me Joy- Yeri you are absolutely gorgeous tonight, by the way. Red is an absolute dream with your complexion.”

 

“Why- Thank you! You are the stunning one among us two. I am in awe of how rich your dress is. I have never seen a purple so vivid in my life! It brings out your fair complexion quite well.” Seongwoo wondered if the two even remembered that he was present. After throwing a few more sloppily spoken compliments back and forth, Yeri remembered her initial reason for approaching.

 

“I shall fetch us some more bubbly wine during your dance!” Joy told the two before departing. Yeri waved; a smile the size of the sun graced her youthful features. Once the lady-in-waiting disappeared in the crowd, she finally acknowledged the concubine.

 

“Is she not the most enchanting person you have ever met?” Yeri asked, acclimating herself to the bouncing rhythm of the dance.

 

“She is very interesting. How were you two introduced?” Seongwoo asked.

 

“Well, um… I…” The young noblewoman pursed her lips in thought, “I don’t know! I just remember she said she liked my dress, and I liked hers. We talked about how dreadful court men are- we all know this it is fact- and… Isn’t she wonderful?”

 

Ong chuckled, “Yes, very.” He glanced over at the flock of nobles still huddled around the King and Queen. “And what of Queen Irene? Do you know anything of her?”

 

“I’d heard things before she came to court. Nothing interesting, just nice things. She is smart and a good ruler to her people. Fair, but firm. All very boring. Joy says it’s as if she was born a  leader. She’s got a very strong sense of duty to her people… Boring.”

 

“What is so boring about being a good ruler?”

 

“Everything is boring about it, Seongwoo! Where’s the change, the progress, the passion!”

 

“Here I thought ruling a kingdom required stability and fairness.” Seongwoo wondered whether it was the alcohol that affected Yeri’s insistances or something else. He pondered if their greed, their “passion”, was more deeply embedded in the culture than he’d thought.

 

“Stability and fairness? That’s all quite nice until the Kingdom with furious passion comes knocking on your castle doors. It’s a drag people die all the time, but there’s never a dull day, Seongwoo. One day we, too, will fall. Another nation more enspirited than us will come knocking at our doors. ‘Til then? We dance!”

 

Ong wasn’t sure how to react to her statement. Clearly, the amount of wine she’d consumed impeded her mental filter greatly. It struck him as strangely sad to hear a teen aged girl discuss conquering with such frivolity; she went so far as to even glorify it, conflating it with passion. He supposed that, in a way, she had a point. Beneath the drunken drivel lay some truth. All nations died eventually, and stagnation assured a hastened destruction. The truth behind her thought process added a layer of depth to the girl that Seongwoo hadn’t given her before. She understood more than he would have ever thought.

  
Either that, or she was really, really drunk.

 

“How is King Daniel, Seongwoo?” Yeri asked, changing the subject with a tricky grin.

 

The concubine’s heart twisted and writhed, “Why not look over there and tell me? That is- if you can see over the heads of the people crowding him.”

 

Yeri apparently found his statement funny and giggled, “He and Queen Irene are getting on well, it seems.” Suddenly she stopped mid-step, stumbling with a gasp. Seongwoo’s eyes widened and he rushed to her side.

 

“Are you alright?” He asked concernedly.

 

The noblewoman gasped, “If they get married… How beautiful will that wedding be?!” Her voice turned into a shrill squeal. Had it not been for the loud echoing of voices in the room, surely it would have disrupted the peace.

 

Ong gave a joyless smile, responding, “Unequivocally so.”

 

Wetness welled up in Yeri’s eyes, and she covered her mouth with her hand, “It will be so-” She choked up, “So beautiful, Seongwoo. I love weddings Seongwoo, I love them. I always want to cry- Oh a royal wedding. Queen Irene and King Daniel,” She squished her cheeks together.

 

Ong felt at a loss. A small seed of virulence took root in his chest, slowly spreading,“Yes, simply stunning- Oh! There is Lady Joy!” The lady-in-waiting smiled from a few paces away, waving around two wine glasses with a massive grin.

 

“Joy! Oh! Joy! I love her, Seongwoo. She is so fun and beautiful. She may be my best friend I have ever met- besides you, of course!”

 

“I take no offense if she dethrones me. She is clearly very… Enamoring. I am sure you two relate on much more than you and I,” Ong replied with a laugh.

 

“You think so?” Yeri sounded awed by his incredibly shallow insight.

 

“I know so,” The concubine said. He looked in the direction of Lady Joy once more, “Go to her. Enjoy the rest of your evening. I think I am going to retire soon.”

 

“Have a wonderful night, Seongwoo!” Yeri waved an enthusiastic goodbye before bounding toward her new best friend.

 

Seongwoo could only watch on and laugh as the two disappeared into the crowd, hands locked once more. He felt genuinely happy for the girl. He rarely saw her speaking to anybody her age, and she never looked particularly happy when she did. The girl was funny, that much Ong had learned to be true. So was Joy. Seongwoo wished that the two would continue to get along when the alcohol wore off.

 

The concubine left the dancefloor, heading toward the flock of people around the rulers.

 

His cheery thoughts of his friend Yeri quickly disappeared, and embitterment replaced them. A royal wedding, he thought; yes, how beautiful. In fact, he thought it more than beautiful. The concept was purely pristine. Nobles were meant to be together. Two young, strong rulers becoming one formed the foundation to a healthy alliance. It logically could transition into decades of peace, of unparalleled power. The Kang and Bae empire forming a bond sealed in blood and solidified by the womb? It reeked of perfection; the overwhelming perfume of it nauseated the concubine.

 

Seongwoo arrived at the outer ring of bodies encircling King Daniel. He couldn’t help but think it quite rude that people had gotten so close to the two. He felt as if there ought to be some convoluted law of etiquette that deemed such behavior unacceptable. Apparently, there was not. The concubine tried to nudge and elbow his way through the throng of well dressed nobles; however, he had little success. One man shoved Seongwoo away brashly, and a woman even cursed at him. People barricaded the high ranking sovereigns on all sides.

 

The concubine groaned. He felt tired.

 

He had no intention of competing for his majesty’s attention. Clearly, these people craved his validation greatly, and Ong had no desire to be the one to deny them. All he’d intended was to inform the King of him returning to the bedchambers. The nonessential detail would surely not be worth passing on, and he felt idiotic for even considering interrupting for such a reason. Surely his majesty would not notice his departure. Annoyed, Seongwoo strode toward the threshold of the Centrale Ballroom.  

 

Despite his irritation, he took one look over his shoulder at the gaiety. The nobles showed no sign of ceasing. The night was young, after all. His eyes drifted to the horde of nobles that were surrounding King Daniel and the Queen. Suddenly, they started dissipating, and when they’d thinned out enough, Ong could see why. King Daniel and Queen Irene smiled at one another. Hand in hand, they headed out toward the dance floor. They laughed, quickly lapsing into perfectly timed dancing. He supposed the two had much to talk about, they probably had had similar upbringings that they could share with one another. He wondered if Queen Irene flinched when someone’s hand brushed too close to her leg, or if she aggressively pushed people away when they got too close. He thought it unlikely.

 

The two looked like a picture out of a story book, or perhaps an instruction manual on how to be royalty. Whatever the published work may be entitled, Ong had no interest in reading it.

  
Daniel’s head darted around for a few seconds. Though he still smiled, Seongwoo could see the puzzlement on his face.

 

Finally, his majesty turned to look out the double doors and, from across the room, their eyes locked.

 

Daniel’s smile faltered, ever so slightly.

 

Seongwoo felt a flare of excitement flicker inside of him, but he quelled it, to exasperated to allow himself such feelings. He turned away, heading down the corridor toward his bedchambers.

 

The wide open corridors of Castle Jeon felt approximately twenty degrees cooler. Soon, the loud noise of string instruments and chatter died down to a faint echo as he distanced himself from the ballroom. Seongwoo’s pace slowed down from a rushing walk to a lackadaisical stride. Shame creeped in where bitterness had taken residence inside his ribcage. Ultimately, he felt sick.

 

He’d done the one thing he’d sworn he wouldn't. He’d gotten mixed up in castle affairs.

 

Seongwoo looked forward to peace and quiet in the bedchambers, at the very least. Unfortunately, the sound of steps approached him from behind. They grew closer and closer, until he realized that they did not belong to a person merely passing through. Someone had been following him. Surely, he thought, it had to be Daniel. Though irritation gnawed at his insides, he did not deny the sense of relief that came over him knowing that the other cared. He turned on his heel, ready to say his piece.

 

His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

 

“Harlot,” General Park Jihoon greeted Seongwoo with a grunt. Greeted, perhaps, did not accurately depict the man’s tone. He slurred it. The man shifted his weight shakily from one foot to the other, approaching the concubine.

 

Seongwoo’s heart dropped into his stomach, “General Park. I trust you’ve had a fun evening.” He said coldly.

 

“Drop the shit, concubine. You and I both know we’ve had a shit night. I mean- look at me,” He stumbled toward the other, nearly falling. In spite of his loathing for the man, Seongwoo lunged forward to catch him. “Incredible, innit?” Jihoon laughed.

 

Ong’s nose scrunched. Strong fumes of alcohol came off of the younger man. He smelled as if he’d bathed in wine.

 

“What is incredible is how drunk you seem to be,” Seongwoo said. He tried to stand Jihoon up, but the General was not having it. Whether due to lack of ability or willpower, he merely crumbled, putting all of his weight on the concubine. Ong gasped at the sudden influx of heaviness heaped onto him. His head darted around in hopes of finding someone to help. Anyone.

 

Unfortunately, not a single other soul was in sight. He groaned.

 

The concubine lumbered over to the nearest stable structure he could see, a heavy looking marble statue of a man. He unceremoniously dumped the general in the general direction of the thing in hopes that he’d use it to prop himself up. Thankfully, he did, and he slowly began to right himself. Clinging to the sculpture’s legs, he held himself up as he spoke.

 

“You lose,” The General jeered, giggling. “You lose.”

 

Seongwoo crossed his arms. He wasn’t sure whether to regard the man with pity or disdain. After a short reflection, he went with the latter.

 

“What exactly are you talking about?”

 

“Oh, spare me,” Hiccups squeaked out between a few of General Park’s words, “You know exactly what are- I am talking about. You lost, and now you’re-” He snorted again, nearly collapsing due to laughter, “You’re leaving in a tizzy because your precious Master has discarded you for the next, newest, most shiniest thing! You’re just like me!” His face grew red.

 

Seongwoo wanted to disregard the General’s words, but they’d been so well chosen. Even in his highly compromised state, he’d managed to distill Seongwoo’s fears. He found the most basic points of vulnerability and stabbed at them with precision.

 

“Oh- How does it feel?” Jihoon giggled. He would have looked cute had he not spit acid from his tongue.

 

“I have no idea what you speak of. Stay put and I shall have a servant come fetch you. I hope Guanlin doesn’t see you like this.”

 

“Denial is not a flattering shade on you, trollop. You have functioning eyes. Do you not see what is in front of you?”

 

“Your attempts at upsetting me are in vain. Please, get some rest. I- I will fetch someone-”

 

“God you are so obtuse! Don’t you see? Your days are numbered! You lose, concubine.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“We both lose. Don’t you see? I lost and now you lose, too. We lose. Daniel is going to skip off into the damn sunset with a perfect wife, leaving our broken asses behind. Don’t you see?!”

 

“They- they’ve only just met. You sound mad!” Ong wasn’t sure if he was attempting reassure Jihoon or himself.

 

“Seongwoo, you are pathetic. Just look at the facts.”

 

“You called me by name,” Ong muttered without thought.

 

“Jesus- You are dense, aren’t you?”

 

“I- I- I can’t get through to you- Lord in heaven.”

 

“What is getting through to me is that you need help. You seem to be the one fussing about due to the Queen’s presence. Not me.”

 

“As if you did not just storm out of there because Daniel didn’t pay you any attention!”

 

“I did not do that!”

 

“You did, too! That’s how it starts, you know. Petty neglect. Little things,” Jihoon’s fierce tone dulled down into rambling, “He forgets things… Loses track of time… He makes your heart soar. He tells you that you are his most _cherished_ person.”

 

Seongwoo’s blood froze.

 

Surely, he told himself, it was a coincidence.

 

“Ha!” Jihoon snickered at Ong’s expression of devastation, “There it is! That, my friend, is recognition! That is familiarity! You know _exactly_ what I’m talkin’ about.”

 

“You are no friend of mine,” Seongwoo said through gritted teeth. He knew he ought to just leave, storm off and let Jihoon crawl back to his damn quarters. Yet he remained rooted in place. Be it pride, stubbornness, or something a petty desire to have the last word, he couldn’t tell.

 

“You’re broken aren’t you? Of fuckin’ course you are, being a harlot and all. Well me? I’m broken too. That’s how he likes ‘em. He likes a challenge. He wants to be the savior and put all those pieces back together, because he’s kind and sweet. He thinks he can polish off those rough edges, but when he realizes he can’t…” Jihoon shook his head and clicked his tongue, “When you’re too far gone anymore he finds someone else.”

 

“Stop- Stop projecting onto me!” Seongwoo wanted to cover his ears, to move, to do something, yet he still stood still, listening to a drunken warlord spell out his fears.

 

“He tires and moves onto a new project. Now- Queen Irene may not be some ramshackle fuck like either of us, but I’m sure he will find something that he wants to fix right up. And you? You’ll be out of a job. You lose, I lose… We both fucking lose.”

 

“What competition did I enter unknowingly, General?” Seongwoo snapped back. “What did I lose? I have nothing to lose anymore. I am trapped here. Trapped!”

 

“Oh?” A cheshire grin spread across Jihoon’s lips, “This is a far cry from the man who dangled how much his majesty cared for him in front of me. To think, all it took was a brief meeting with someone else to unravel your wits! I lasted longer than that!”

 

“Lasted longer in what? In pining for his majesty? Obsessing over him?”

 

“I do not obsess-”

 

“You obsess, Jihoon! You are unhinged!”

 

“I want to protect what I hold closest you ignorant fool! Have you never once fought for what you believed in? Or do you merely like throwing punches every once in awhile before- before you skitter off like some scared animal?”

 

“You are not protecting Daniel by acting like a lunatic. All you do is suffocate those you supposedly care for!”

 

“I hold on tightly because I cannot bear the thought of losing them. Something someone soulless like you wouldn’t understa-” Jihoon jumped to lash out at Seongwoo, but he tripped and came crashing down onto his knees. The General inhaled sharply. He looked up at Seongwoo, wetness welled up in his eyes. His voice wavered slightly when he spoke, “He was my best friend, Seongwoo. I lost my best friend.” He sniffled, and his face scrunched. Tears began rolling down his cheeks.

 

Seongwoo had been sucked into the General’s vortex of despair before. He felt incredibly averse to extending pity to the man and having it backfire again. Even so, the sight of the man - the person so young that he barely qualified as a man - made his heart ache. The concubine groaned and, despite what past experience had taught him, he extended a hand to General Park.

 

“Get up,” Seongwoo said, eyes fixed on the muscular statue that he’d fallen off of. Even with the extension of courtesy, he still couldn’t handle looking the man in the eye. Jihoon blinked tears out of his eyes and looked up at Seongwoo for a moment in shock. Shakily, he took the concubine’s hand. It took great effort, but Ong managed to hoist Jihoon up.

 

Suddenly, Jihoon took hold of Seongwoo’s doublet.

 

Then, shock.

 

Utter and complete shock.

 

Seongwoo thought that he’d passed out, that he’d been dreaming. His eyes widened, and his arms fell to his sides limply.

 

General Park Jihoon clung to the fabric of his jacket to keep himself upright, and he pressed his lips against Seongwoo’s.

 

The concubine’s head reeled. Air ejected itself from his lungs, and no amount of breathing could replenish it. Alcohol stung his lips, and terror froze him in place. Seconds crawled slower than a snail, and Seongwoo waited for something. Anything. Any indication as to why what had just occurred happened.

 

Finally, after what felt like a decade, General Park said something. His voice was quiet when he separated from the other.

 

“I thought it would feel better,” The drunk warlord mumbled, looking pointedly at Seongwoo’s lips.

 

“What the _hell_ ?” Ong breathed out. He started shaking, and tears rose to his eyes. He didn’t know how to react. He wanted to beat the man senseless, to weep, to run, to throw his hands in the air. So many things yanked and tugged at him, but most prevailing: he needed to know why. _Why_?

 

“I wanted to put my lips… Where Daniel’s had been,” Jihoon frowned. He looked like a dejected puppy, as if the kiss not living up to expectation was the saddest thing in the world. His head fell heavily onto Seongwoo’s shoulders. “I loved him, and that love made me strong. I had a reason to be. I had Guanlin, too, but- Now…” He gripped Ong’s doublet with white knuckles. His voice came out, barely a whisper, “I don’t know.” The General began shuddering with sobs, and Seongwoo was the only thing keeping him upright anymore.

 

The concubine felt at a complete loss. He thought things could not possibly get much worse than they had at that moment.

 

He’d been wrong.

 

“M-Master?” A meek voice called out from behind Seongwoo.

 

“Guanlin,” Seongwoo looked over his shoulder at the chick. He looked absolutely stunning in the white and gold coordinate Jihoon had had made for him. His face, unfortunately, did not look quite as nice. His mouth hung open, the edges downturned, and he looked on with wide eyes. Trepidation filled Seongwoo to the brim as he quickly excused the other, “Your Master had too much to drink.”

 

Abruptly, clarity seemed to snap Jihoon back into place. He straightened up, a cold expression befalling his facial features once more. He dried his tears with his sleeve and let go of the concubine’s doublet. Stepping aside, he regarded his concubine.

 

“The concubine is right,” The edges of the man’s syllables still blurred, but they sounded much clearer than they had prior. “I had a fall, and he caught me. I apologize if I worried you. You and- and that boy were having so much fun. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

 

Guanlin’s pupils darted between Seongwoo and Jihoon. He looked down, nibbling on his lip in contemplation before saying anything.

 

“W-well, why don’t we head to bed, then, Master? Let me check you for any injuries, and you can sleep it off.”

 

“That sounds splendid,” Jihoon said, giving Guanlin a fond smile.

 

The General lumbered toward his concubine. He clearly exerted great effort remaining upright, but he managed.

 

“I’m off as well. Please, you two, have a good night,” Seongwoo said politely.

 

“Yes. Thank you for your help,” Jihoon said as he looped his arm around Guanlin’s shoulder. The pair began walking at a surprisingly fast pace. As they passed Seongwoo, Guanlin turned to him.

 

“Yes, Seongwoo,” The chick said, “Thank you for your help.”

  
Seongwoo stopped walking for a moment. He took pause, turning around to watch the departing figures gradually grow smaller with distance. His jaw dropped and his heart sunk even further than it had before. In that farewell, he heard something out of Guanlin that he’d never heard the boy speak with before:

 

Spite.

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo stared at the flickering light of the candle next to the bed. Daniel’s bed. He’d gotten used to sharing it with the man, but without his presence, it felt cold. A few times, he’d even considered returning to his own bedchambers. He opted not to, deciding it would be immensely petty. Not to mention, in lieu of his encounter with General Park, he could use the reassurance. Hiding away from his problems hadn’t brought on any favorable results for him yet. He prayed that, perhaps, a night’s rest would mend his sick heart.

 

“ _Squeaaak_.”

 

The sound of a door unhinging caused the concubine to jolt up. His eyes shot to the threshold. A familiar, broad-shouldered silhouette darkened the doorway. The man closed the door behind himself before pacing toward the bed.

 

“Seongwoo, I am sorry to have woken you,” Daniel said in a hushed voice.

 

The concubine frowned, “You needn’t worry. I wasn’t asleep.” He sat upright to more adequately regard the man in front of him. His shoulders slumped, and a yawn stretched through his entire body.

 

“Oh,” Was all the King responded. He perched at the edge of his bed, thumbing at the silver buttons of his doublet clumsily.

 

“Here,” Seongwoo said, scooting toward the edge of the bed. “Let me help you with that.” Daniel obliged without a word. Kicking off his boots, he moved in closer to face his concubine. Ong carefully undid the multitudinous finicky buttons that descended the garment in a neat line. Any little thing to distract him was a good thing. A sinking feeling still heavily hung in his gut at Jihoon’s little episode; however, he’d been manipulated by the man before. He tried not to let it get under his skin. Though he could cast aside thoughts of General Park, what truly bothered him was the other person who’d been there: Guanlin. He prayed that the boy hadn’t gotten the wrong impression. It didn’t help that Ong had no idea what the boy had seen. Jihoon could easily spin some tale about how Ong had attempted to seduce him. With how enamored Guanlin was, he’d believe it.

 

Seongwoo had forgotten to speak, and he noticed that the silence between Daniel and himself had an air of awkwardness.

 

“Thank you,” Daniel replied. Realistically, the man could have done it himself, but Seongwoo wanted an excuse to be close to him. He admitted to himself: he had felt incredibly neglected during the engagement earlier. As silly as Ong knew it to be, the thought of being forgotten, cast aside or treated like a prop scared him. The concubine knew it immensely ridiculous to have such thoughts, especially considering his circumstances. Yet, the intrusions rose in his mind regardless. Even the littlest gesture of courtesy provided an excuse to be near Daniel, and for that reason, Seongwoo pushed himself the extra nudge to be in the other’s presence.

 

“Did you have a fun night?” Seongwoo asked. Truthfully, the concubine did not particularly care. Of course, he hoped that the King had had a good night, but the thought of the man enjoying himself immensely in his absence stung him slightly.

 

Daniel shrugged, “I would have preferred to spend it differently.” He looked at his concubine implicitly.

 

“Oh?” His majesty’s ward knew damn well what he’d been indicating, but he felt inclined to hear it. For certainty’s sake and no other motive.

 

“You departed rather early. I missed you.” Somehow, the King’s honestly still managed to surprise the concubine. He truly did not conceal anything. It made Seongwoo almost ashamed at how jarringly different the two were in that aspect. On one side: King Daniel expressed himself openly. He spoke frankly, leaving nothing to doubt or question. On the other: Seongwoo obscured everything. The man had quickly constructed a wealth of walls; barrier upon barrier of lies and concealments. Though he behaved outwardly in a way that many perceived as honest, he rarely spoke his mind.

 

“Did you?” Unable to help himself, the words left Ong’s lips before he could contemplate them further.

 

“Yes.”

 

“What was there to miss? My silence? My figure looming behind you?”

 

“You,” Daniel said softly. Seongwoo’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and he could make out his Master’s features in the dim candlelight. A frown crossed his majesty’s lips as he spoke, “I missed you.”

 

“I am sure my departure had no impact on your evening. The Queen seems quite nice. She seems to make good company.”

 

“Seongwoo,” Daniel sighed quietly, “I- I cannot explain well. I… I missed being in _your_ company. You do not have to say anything for me to enjoy being near you. Being near you just makes me feel… Happier.” He lifted a hand and reached it toward the other’s cheek. Just before letting his knuckles brush his concubine’s cheekbone, his hand flinched.

 

“You looked perfectly happy to me.”

 

“You and I are both aware that one must occasionally put on faces for the sake of diplomacy. Even so, perhaps I wasn’t miserable? Would you prefer for me to be unhappy if I am not with you?” Seongwoo bit his lip nervously. Bitterness speared his chest, and he could hardly stand to cope any longer. The King’s last inquiry sounded like a question more suited to Jihoon; Ong wondered if the General had ever been subject to similar questioning. He quickly ousted the thought from his head focusing on the relationship _he_ had with Daniel.

 

“I felt ignored. Like a prop,” He admitted. A flurry of relief ran over him despite the embarrassment that caused color to flush his cheeks. It was humiliating, his prideful side thought, to yearn for the attention of the King so badly. In saying his true feelings, it came to him just how childish his behavior truly had been. A keen desire to bury himself beneath the bed’s blankets swept over him.

 

“I…” Hurt crossed Daniel’s face, “I… I focused on the Baes heavily. I needed to-” He paused. Face knitting into an expression of exasperation, his frown deepened. “You are right. I ignored you. I- I should not try to excuse it or act as if I did anything else. I got so preoccupied trying to woo the Baes, I- I- I am sorry.”

 

Remorse filled Seongwoo, and he responded, “You’ve no need to apologize. You were fulfilling your duty and being a good host. I ought to be the one saying sorry.  I- I acted childishly.” Their communication struck Seongwoo as strange and foreign. It pronounced itself in a positive way. He could easily envision himself merely acting cold toward the King, refusing to speak to what troubled him. Discussing his thinking openly was an exotic concept to the concubine. He finished undoing the King’s buttons, and his hands fell to his lap where they fidgeted with one another. “It fills me with more shame than you know that I’d feel so- so-”

 

“Jealous?” Daniel asked. His voice no longer sounded sorry or remorseful; the tone upturned slightly. It wasn’t amusement necessarily, but it betrayed a hint of enjoyment.

 

After a long pause, Seongwoo swallowed his pride and responded, “Yes.” His newfound determination to be honest did not prove to be easy.

 

King Daniel grinned with adoration at the man sitting next to him, “Oh, Seongwoo…”

 

“What?” Irritation seeped into the concubine’s voice.

 

“To be most frank, you have nothing to be jealous of.”

 

“Nothing?” Ong laughed wryly. “I have to sit by and watch you gayly charm a Queen, but there is nothing to be jealous of?”

 

“Queen Irene is wonderful company. She will make an excellent ally and friend. Do you really think I will toss you aside the moment I encounter another unwed person of noble lineage?”

 

“People like the idea of you two together. Wouldn’t it be good for your Kingdom? To wed a Queen. Take over her territory. Pop out a few heirs…”

 

“I prefer the idea of us two together,” Daniel said. The statement was simple. Childish even. Even so, it made heat prick Seongwoo’s cheeks. He wanted to remain firm, resolute; yet, as always, his resolve crumbled around the other man.

 

“Our lives are not dictated by preference.”

 

“No, they are not. If they were, I would have courted someone already. A beautiful, black-haired man with stars on his face.” Daniel grinned widely. Seongwoo did not want to grin; he got the impression that Daniel’s goal was to make him do so.

 

“What makes you so certain that a man fitting that description would accept your courtship?”

 

Daniel grinned, scooting closer; his hand rested on Seongwoo’s knee, “Because I would work my hardest to impress him.”

 

“Would you?”

 

“I would.”

 

“And how would you plan on doing such a thing?”

 

“Well, first, I would take him by the hand,” Daniel’s free hand took the concubine’s, “And I would show him all of my favorite spots in the castle.”

 

“And if he does not like castles?”

 

“Then I will invite him to a private dinner. There would be a spread of all of his favorite things to eat.”

 

“Do you think dinner alone is enough to sway affections?” Seongwoo said with a chuckle.

 

“No, but it is a mere precursor for dessert.”

 

“What distinguishes sweets so greatly from their savory predecessors?”

 

Daniel stroked the top of Seongwoo’s hand with his thumb, “Because we will pack it in a basket and take it out to the gardens. We would find a comfortable patch of soft grass and set out a picnic. Maybe, he can teach me about the stars. He’d point out constellations like… Andromeda and Cepheus. I shall try my best to listen, but I am distracted.”

 

“By what?”

 

“The way his eyes light up when he speaks of them. How their glow cannot compare to the luminescence of the man next to me.”

 

“W-well...” Seongwoo trailed off. His face had completely flushed, and he felt grateful that the candlelight obscured it. No recollection of ever being regarded in such an explicitly romantic way crossed his mind. He feared for the King’s eyesight and mental fortitude. For a man to speak in such a way about him of all people caused worry. “Perhaps he would like that.”

 

Smiling warmly, the King leaned in. His thumb stroked circles on the concubine’s thigh; surely the gesture meant no harm. It likely wasn’t even conscious, yet it still made Seongwoo freeze up. His entire body tensed, and his thoughts stalled and stuttered slightly. He was all too familiar with the oncoming sensation as his throat began to feel tight. The concubine quickly gripped his Master’s wrist. He moved the other’s hand off of his thigh without a word, and his pupils fled the other’s gaze. Daniel drew back and a frown crossed his features.

 

“I-I’m sorry. Are you… Are you alright?” He asked attentively.

 

“I’m fine,” The concubine answered all too fast with a voice too clipped. “Do not worry about me,” Seongwoo’s lips pressed into a thin line.

 

“No,” Daniel said emphatically, “No, I _will_ worry. If you cannot tell me, that is fine, but… It wounds me to see you like this. I cannot deny that a portion of that hurt is personal greed. However, it is so much more than that. You hurt enough as it is, I-” He choked on his syllables for an instant before going on. After a long duration of quiet, his voice came out shakily. Almost inaudibly he whispers, “I would never have chosen this life for you. Now you are left with scars beyond repair.”

 

“Everyone has scars,” Seongwoo replied. “And not all of mine were inflicted by your Kingdom. Perhaps many, but- but not all.” His urge to console the over had overtaken his loathing, but uttering the reassurances felt slightly wrong. It felt like a massive betrayal of all he’d held close to him. The sweltering, searing hatred he once clung to had dulled. He could hardly fathom the thought, and it scared him even more than his affections for the King. Hesitantly, Seongwoo reached a hand out. It shook as he brought it toward the other’s face. He let it sit there momentarily, making sure that his nerves wouldn’t bite before advancing the gesture.

 

With his thumb idly stroking the King’s cheek, Seongwoo continued, “In truth I…” It still proved difficult to say, “When you- When you t-touched-” His gut wrenched at the mere thought, “-me. I-” His pupils skittered away, “I got recollections of- of-” The words refused to come out. As it was, those images were teetering on the edge, threatening to fall over and fill his thoughts once more.

 

Daniel covered Seongwoo’s hand with his own, giving it a squeeze, “I believe I understand enough. It brought up bad memories, didn’t it?” The concubine nodded. He wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved that Daniel knew or embarrassed that he couldn’t even say it. In court or about the castle, he managed to regard the perpetrator with disdain and anger. Oddly enough, seeing the man going about his life hadn’t even set off reactions of terror. Of all times, it had to be when he was with Daniel that anxiety seized him; that galled the concubine. With no alcohol-fueled delirium to blur his mind like in the cabin, the thought of the other initiating contact was too much.

 

“Yes,” Seongwoo replied quietly.

 

“What can I do to comfort you?”

 

The concubine nearly replied “kill Duke Hwang”, but he knew that dead or alive, he’d still be haunted by the nobleman. It did upset him that the man walked freely while he himself dragged around the weight of what had happened; however, he knew that the entire plot had been his own conception. The remnant scars were consequences he suffered due to his actions. It felt miserable: to be punished for trying to survive. But that, Seongwoo had come to understand, was living in Castle Jeon. One small part of the concubine felt a bit bitter toward Daniel for even posing such a question. The man could enact a multitude of orders to improve his concubine’s life. However, Seongwoo knew how unrealistic that was, and that the man couldn’t be put under fire for the sake of one when many had needs. Not when the nobles tugged at him so diligently for their own favors.

 

“Be patient,” The concubine said. It was the best answer he could come up with. Time ticked on against the two, but it also possessed immeasurable powers of healing and harm. He prayed that, maybe one day, it would lend its healing aid to the ill air between them.

 

“For you, anything,” Daniel said. He leaned toward the concubine and lifted his hand timidly. Fondness filled Seongwoo at the consideration. He cracked a grin and whispered:

 

“I am not so delicate that you cannot kiss me, you know,” He let out a small chuckle.

 

His highness heaved a sigh of relief, “Oh thank merciful God.” With haste, he took hold of his concubine’s face and brought their lips together. Warmth and sparks filled Seongwoo’s chest, almost completely burning away his worries. The concubine smiled against the other, returning in earnest. Their free hands searched for one another; upon finding each other’s fingers, they intertwined them. Lips brushed and noses bumped. Tiny laughs and little smiles trickled out between them.

 

Seongwoo tried to ignore the looming dread that had fastened itself to the back of his mind. Luckily, Daniel’s plush lips made it easy.


	26. Great Fortune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 26 WARNING(s): N/A

A warm breeze ran through the palace gardens. The sun had nearly completed its ascent into the sky, and its bright orange rays painted thick lines of light across the tents that had been painstakingly set up over the week prior. Tiny twinkles shone off of the drops of dew still clinging to the blades of grass on the grounds.

 

People had been busy bustling about for the past seven days, rushing to erect tents and ready themselves for the opening day. Though it had felt an impossible feat, it had happened. Tents spanned the massive Castle Jeon gardens in an orderly fashion. A veritable spread of color and cloth laid out along the green expanse, inviting the eye to gaze upon the spectacle in wonder. Vendors and entertainers alike had found their allotment in due time. Only the signalling of the festival’s opening came between them and their busy weekend. Commoners from far and near had flocked to gaze upon the shining beacon of glory known as Castle Jeon. Their wagons and encampments sat in the far distance, and they filed in toward the morning’s spectacle.

 

Toward the grand outdoor entrance of Castle Jeon, a platform had been built. Upon it stood his majesty, King Daniel. Though many rumors had circulated about the man, he looked awe inspiring in the flash. He wore an ensemble in a deep indigo. The immaculate woven print of his doublet alternated with silken piping, and a massive chain of jewels hung around his neck. Extravagant filigree trim adorned the cuffs of his sleeves and his collar. His crown gleamed in the morning light, dazzling those who looked directly at it. Beside him, Prince Daehwi had been dressed in a more vivid, youthful blue. Off to the other side, Advisor Yoon donned a handsome silver ensemble. Beside him, a man of cloth stood: a bishop who’d been tasked with blessing the festival.

 

The crowd of people that had gathered buzzed with hushed whispers. Nobles had been given precedent, standing toward the front, closer to his majesty. The commoners toward the back whispered with intense interest due to having never seen their King before. Quiet conversations hummed about along with idle comments.

 

“His majesty is handsome.” “Doesn’t he look a bit young?” “That’s our King?” “I’d pictured him differently.” “How old is he?” “How’s he not married yet?” “Is that Advisor Yoon? I heard he studied in Old Capital!” “I’m a bit disappointed.” “I thought he was a glutton- a fiend for sweets!” “It’s not fair- beautiful and rich!” “Do you suppose he’s on the lookout for a concubine?” “I’ve never heard talk of the Advisor.” “Haven’t you heard- he’s got one!” “Can he really be our ruler?” “How I wish one day to be put under trial and judged by him.” “I don’t see what the fuss is about. He’s not that handsome!” “The Prince looks rather nice today, doesn’t he?”

 

King Daniel lifted his hand, and with the simple gesture, silence washed over the crowd. It seemed that even the wind courteously ceased rustling the leaves and grass. Everyone looked on in awe, gazes falling heavily on the sovereign’s figure. If the myriad of eyes upon him had exerted any pressure, King Daniel hadn’t shown it. Cooly, he addressed the crowd with a smile.

 

“Good morning to you all: friends, family, noble members of the court, and loyal subjects. It is my privilege to welcome you all to the Harvest Festival…”

 

Seongwoo, concubine to the King, stood far off, peeking out from behind a fountain. He and Sungwoon had both agreed to do last minute rounds with the tents to assure everyone had been placed properly and all things were in place. However, he could not stop himself from sneaking a glance at the King delivering his opening speech. Seongwoo thought it funny that he still felt surprised at King Daniel’s cool exterior. Behind closed doors, the man acted anything but; being in front of others transformed the man.

 

Seongwoo could not hear what he said, nor could he properly hear the bishop’s blessing, but he could see well enough. He could discern that Daniel had chosen well placed, meaningful words, and that he’d deliberately been minimal in what he’d opted to say. His majesty, whether intentional or not, benefited from speaking little in formal engagements. By his body language, the King appeared strong and assured which contrasted with his questioning nature. Overall, Seongwoo could tell the man had done an excellent job. He wondered what the commoners had to say about their King. Little time had been given to contemplate it, for an interruption quickly roused him.

 

“I see you’re working hard,” Sungwoon’s voice tittered behind him.

 

Seongwoo turned around, looking at Sungwoon impishly, “I- I just- I merely wanted to see-”

 

“I jest,” The older man held his hand up, “We have done our fair share of work. Even if we did find something wrong, now would hardly be the time to correct it.” He paced forward, taking a spot next to the younger concubine. A tone of admiration dripped from Sungwoon’s voice, “He looks handsome, doesn’t he?”

 

Seongwoo eyed the King, and a blush pricked his cheeks; shyly, he nodded, “Stunning, truly.”

 

A slight pause ensued. Ong had been far too busy staring at Daniel, and he didn’t notice until a few moments later that Sungwoon hadn’t said anything. When he turned to look at the man next to him, he was met with a scrunched expression of bafflement.

 

“I was talking about my husband, you simpleton,” Sungwoon said before breaking out into a cackling laugh. Seongwoo’s mouth flapped open and closed, and he searched for the least possible humiliating way to explain away his breathy swooning. Another wave of heat painted itself across Ong’s cheeks.

 

“R-right,” Seongwoo said.

  
Suddenly, the crowd dissolved. Diffused conversation grew in volume, and the droves of people began darting in the general direction of the tents. Seongwoo and Sungwoon exchanged wide-eyed glances.

 

“Oh hell,” Sungwoon muttered, “It’s begun.”

 

“Time to see how our work has paid off, then,” Ong replied. He watched the King step down from his platform. A few bodies scuttled toward him. One in particular stood out to Seongwoo. Even at a distance, the concubine could make out the dignified form of Queen Irene. Her rather broody brother tailed behind sluggishly.

 

The King took the Queen by the arm, and the two began striding toward the festival grounds lackadaisically. Prince Daehwi and Prince Jinyoung trailed behind, engaging in their own conversations, and the Advisor had been joined by General Park behind them.

 

Seongwoo frowned.

 

It had indeed begun.

 

* * *

 

The crowd entered the gardens like a mighty wave crashing down on a beach. Giddy chatter and jaunty music swirl about in the air, intermingled with advertising shouts of vendors and the recitations of actors. Children dart about energetically, laughing and playing. Smells fill the air varying from sweet confections to roasted meats. Banners of peach and rose colored pennants had been strung across the tents, wrapping the entire area in festivity. Clusters of people milled about; some shopped and others conversed. Beside throngs of finely dressed nobles, commoners happily explored. It did not take long for a cheerful chaos to fall over the Castle Jeon gardens.

 

“You’ve done well!” A chipper voice called out to Seongwoo, who’d been standing beside a fountain, taking it all in. The concubine turned around, happy to see a good friend.

 

“Eunji!” He beamed. Trailing behind her were her close undermaids, Namjoo and Hayoung. The trio greeted the concubine with curtsies and wide grins. “Hayoung, Namjoo! It’s an absolute pleasure to see you. How glad I am you three managed to tear away from work to enjoy the festival. I imagine the staff is in quite a state with all the far off nobles staying in the castle.”

 

“Seongwoo, you forget that this happens every year. I have witnessed this since childhood, and I am confident I’ve got a handle on it. Apparently, so have you,” Eunji replied.

 

“This is absolutely stunning,” Namjoo clapped happily, “And it all smells so wonderful.”

 

“Yes!” Hayoung added, “Namjoo and I have already charted our course.”

 

“Charted your- What?” Ong laughed, “You two fancy yourselves cartographers now?”

 

“I don’t know what that is,” Hayoung replied, “But we’ve planned our route. We are drinking and eating our way across the gardens!”

 

“Oh my,” The concubine gave them a wide-eyed look.

 

“I do hope you don’t plan to do so in a single day,” Eunji commented, shaking her head. “You two still have work to do tonight, not to mention tomorrow’s chores.”

 

“We will quite alright, I assure you,” Namjoo said with confidence, “Right Hayoung?”

 

“Quite!” Hayoung chimed in. She stuck her arm out, and Namjoo took it enthusiastically, “Now, if you excuse us. We’ve an important day ahead of us!” Without further elaboration, the two skipped off toward the nearest food stall. For a few moments, Seongwoo and Eunji watched on in amusement, each praying for the girls’ wellbeing.

 

“They haven’t got the coin to drink too much, do they?” Seongwoo questioned.

 

“Oh, there are other ways a woman can acquire her desires. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

 

“Lord in heaven,” Seongwoo chuckled.

 

“Come on,” Eunji extended her own arm to Seongwoo, “Those two ought to be alright. To speak openly, it is you I worry about.” She looked at the concubine pointedly. Ong quirked an eyebrow, taking her arm. The two began walking, taking up a relaxed pace as they took in the celebrations around them.

 

“Why ever would I cause you worry, Eunji?” Seongwoo inquired.

 

“Oh, Seongwoo, there is a myriad of reasons, really, but… In this immediate moment, I believe you are in danger.”

 

The concubine halted momentarily, “Danger? Of- of what?”

 

“Of not having fun.”

 

Ong’s shoulders sagged in relief, “You cannot spell danger so casually! What do you mean ‘danger of not having fun’, though? I am surrounded by fun.”

 

“Surrounded by fun, yet you seem to be having none of it! You’ve worked hard. This is beautiful, Seongwoo. Enjoy it!” Eunji insisted.

 

“I am enjoying it.”

 

“Is that why you were moping about by a fountain?”

  
“I was not moping.”

 

“Fine. Sulking by a fountain. Does that suit you more?”

 

“Do I truly look so downtrodden?”

 

“Perhaps not to the untrained eye, Seongwoo, but I see all.”

  
“Oh, do you?”

 

“Yes. I could rival one of those fortune tellers that have set up tents here, you know!”

 

Seongwoo let out a laugh, “Perhaps you could. Madame Eunji- has a nice ring, doesn’t it?”

 

“I agree. What have I been doing wasting away in a Castle when I could pursue my true calling?” She tittered.

 

“Surprising the Kingdom allows that sort of thing. Witchcraft and what not. Isn’t that contemptible by the church’s standards?”

 

“It’s right heresy, but the Harvest Festival is a bit of a free for all, isn’t it?”

 

“I suppose so. Arranging everything, I’ve come to learn you lot welcome all sorts to this event.”

 

“You know they are all people of the Kingdom, yes? It is a diverse people, yes, but that is a result of our nation’s long mission of conquest. We’ve brought in many unlike our own over the past century, yet… We are united.”

 

“Hm,” Seongwoo pursed his lips in displeasure. “I suppose that is one way to see it.” He neglected to comment on the militant takeover of continent and how it impacted innocent lives. The concubine quickly decided he would prefer to change the subject. “What is your favorite part of these affairs? I admit, though I organized it, with the actual event I am quite unfamiliar.”

 

“Hm,” Eunji pursed her lips in contemplation for a few moments, “I believe just… Exploring the stalls. Seeing things different than what I see every day. Especially exotic goods and imports! I’ve not much to my name, but I typically can make a good trade for something special every year.”

 

“Oh? That’s wonderful. Have you got any ideas of what you’d like this year?”

 

“Not yet,” Eunji commented, “But I will know when I see it! I always do.”

 

“You want to find your special festival trinket, and I would like to experience the festival. I believe this calls for a nice walk along the tents then, doesn’t it?” Ong grinned.

 

“I believe you are right!” The head maid beamed. The two walked along, happily taking in the vast amount of amusements and wares the festival had brought on.

 

Tent after tent presented a variety of different excitements. One couldn’t turn a corner without seeing or smelling some sort of confection or dish. Smoke wafted across the garden clearings, carrying the aroma of roasted meats. Sweet fragrances of cinnamon and honey tickled the nose, radiating from the cluster of sweetmeats and nut vendors. Jewelry vendors strung up their finest pendants and bracelets for display, and craftsmen, be their medium wood or metal, displayed their most impressive work proudly.

 

A clique of exotic looking men had tried to appeal themselves to Eunji, urging her to smell their newest perfumes. Despite their fun flair, the maid politely declined the proprietors of the aptly named Scentist Apothecary. The pair halted momentarily to watch an all ladies travelling ensemble toot out a happy toon on brass instruments. Seongwoo and Eunji applauded after their jaunty tune, “Boom Boom” as it had been called, delighted all who had crowded around. They bobbed and ducked between especially enthusiastic jugglers and sheepishly scurried away from the comedic hecklers that aimed to amuse with insult. Finally giving in to the multitude of edible temptations around, the pair admitted defeat. After considering the immense amount of choices available, they settled on a tent run by a few women that specialized in a picturesque confection: orange caramel.

 

“I’ve never had anything like this!” Eunji gasped in amazement as she pulled the sweet away from her mouth. A tendril of the gooey substance stuck out, and she had to bite down roughly to cut it off.

 

“It is beautifully orange, though. True to the name. Geniuses, those three!” Seongwoo concurred. He wanted to dance giddily as the sweetness hit his tongue, but he refrained.

 

Suddenly, a short man with a galled expression on his face dashed toward the happy duo. Huffing from exertion, Seongwoo’s mentorly concubine friend grabbed him by the shoulder. Short of breath, he spoke to a wide eyed concubine and maid.

 

“There appears to have been a terrible escalation in the east yard,” Sungwoon said with a frown.

  
Seongwoo’s eyes widened, “What is it? Has something happened to the King?”

 

“I pray his majesty is not caught up in it! It would make an awful impression on the Baes. Not- not that that is our priority- I- You best come look.”

 

Eunji raised her eyebrows in interest, “May I accompany you or is this concubine business?”

 

Sungwoon inspected the maid for an instant before nodding, “You may come. Perhaps your… Authoritative nature and expertise of the fairer sex may help. Come along.” The elder concubine gave no further explanation before turning heel and walking off. Ong and Eunji exchanged puzzled looks, but did not question it.

  
Eunji muttered to herself as they paced behind him, “Fairer sex?”

 

Upon encountering the spectacle, she gained knowledge of what he meant.

 

A few minutes walk later, the three came to the edge of a massive commotion. Women old and young crowded the section of the garden that had been cleared off to form a small theater area. Deafening yells and screams echoed across the space. The seats that had been so precariously set had been toppled over, and girls grasped bestially at one another’s hair and dresses. When the trio reached the edge of the commotion, Seongwoo was the first to speak.

 

“Is this a… Very angry theater act?” He asked, his face painted over with an expression of absolute shock.

 

Sungwoon sighed exasperatedly, “No, Seongwoo, I did not call you over here for an ‘angry theater act’.”

 

“Pity about the chairs,” Eunji remarked, tilting her head and pouting her lips in dissatisfaction.

 

“What, um, what precisely has happened here, Sungwoon?” Seongwoo inquired.

 

“I… Oh God,” The older concubine pinched the bridge of his nose, “Do you recall the two theater troupes who had explicitly requested they be alloted space at opposite parts of the garden?”

 

“I… I do. Did they… I had heard it was due to feuding, but… I had no idea that they were such large companies.”

 

“You- You misunderstand me,” Sungwoon sounded almost pained as he spoke, “These are not the troupes themselves- the Bangtan Travelling Soubrettes, and oh- what was that other one-”

 

“Ah! I remember, um, Ecksoh. Strange name that.”

 

“Yes, theme. Those two. This is not them,” He gestured to the chaos. A few especially passionate curses managed to rise above the collective din, and the words thrown around made even Eunji’s eyes blow wide open in terror. “These are their fans.”

 

“I-” Seongwoo snorted, “Excuse me?”

 

“The feud is not between the troupes. It is between the fans.”

 

“That’s not a fanbase, that’s an army. Or a pack of feral dogs,” Eunji said.

 

“To be honest,” Seongwoo commented, “I find it impressive that a travelling troupe could even gain such a large following at all. They must work tirelessly to garner such loyalt-”

 

“Focus!” Sungwoon cut him off.

 

“Right, yes- disaster, at our festival-” Ong got distracted by a chair flying through the air. He found it astounding what women could do despite the incredibly restrictive garments they wore. “Where are the guards?”

 

“I had been trying to find General Park before running into you, but I forgot, most of his men are deployed.”

 

“They are?”

 

“Yes, a recent order, apparently. Prince Daehwi’s guard has taken head for security- hadn’t we gone over this?”

 

“Right, yes, according to plan. S-so we ought to find the Prince, then? Why would guards not see fit to break this up of their own volition?” Seongwoo looked around. There wasn’t a single man in uniform in sight. “Have you approached any guard about this?”

 

“I have. They seemed rather… Unreceptive. You know security is spread quite thin for this event. Perhaps they deem it not worth their time due to the fact that this squabble is consisted almost entirely of…”

 

“Children.” “Girls?” Eunji and Seongwoo spoke at the same time.

 

“How did this happen, anyways. Aren’t their favorites at opposite sides of the festival?” The maid queried.

 

“Yes, but… Well I suppose this was a flaw on our part with planning. We had consulted with a theater coordinator to arrange the order of acts to be performing in this particular space. Apparently the coordinator had deemed it acceptable to book the two troupes back to back. Functioning under the assumption that it was they that hated one another, surely a few passing glances was all that they’d anticipated occurring between the groups. Fans, however, had come to be seated early, excited to see their favorite act, and…”

 

“And, like any sane, dignified person they… Began to throw things at one another,” Eunji added her own ending to the story. Sungwoon shrugged in concession.

 

“The commoners of this kingdom scare me,” Seongwoo said, watching on in wide-eyed horror as more bodies threw themselves into the fray. “What are they… What are they fighting about? Is there bad blood between the members of the troupes after all?”

 

The older concubine shrugged,“I- No, I do not believe so. I- It just-”

 

“I shall investigate,” Eunji said. She let go of Seongwoo’s arm and began boldly striding toward the mess of thrashing limbs and shouted curses. The maid stood at the fringe of chaos with arms crossed and toe tapping. After a minute or two of quiet observation, she turned around and walked back. Regarding the two of them with a nod, she recounted her brief brush in with intense fan devotion.

 

“Well, from what I heard- I heard a lot, um… It boils down to ‘my group is better than yours, yours is irrelevant, you wretched witch I hope you die’. That, I would say, is the abridged meat of the argument.”

 

Sungwoon’s face fell into a look of incredible displeasure, “They’re arguing over which troupe is better?”

 

“I doubt either is really _that_ impressive,” Seongwoo said nonchalantly.

 

Eunji clucked her tongue, “Careful. Say that too loud and one of those chairs is gonna come hurling in your direction.”

 

“Well- How in the hell are we going to remedy that?” Quiet fell over the three as they stood in contemplation.

 

“I’ve got it!” Eunji snapped as an idea slotted into place. “These girls aren’t going to listen to us. Hell, they may not even respect the demands of the guards! However, I am sure that fans this passionate will listen to someone.”

 

“And that someone is…?” Sungwoon asked in a singsong voice.

 

“Why, the members of their troupes, of course! Where are they, anyways?”

 

“Cowering somewhere behind the stage is my guess,” Seongwoo said. The trio’s glances directed behind the constructed stage. It had been designed for convenient set up and tear down, and only some scaffolding with a large red curtain served as any sort of backdrop. A small clearing had been made behind the curtain to grant minor allowance for obscuring props or doing makeup. If they were hiding anywhere it had to be behind that curtain.

 

“I suppose we shall need to take the long way around this… Mess,” Sungwoon’s nose scrunched as he directed his gaze to the unrelenting crowd of angry fans.

 

Sungwoon, Seongwoo, and Eunji did just that. The three tread carefully, skirting around the edges of the commotion. There had been one close call in which a girl bumped into Eunji. The head maid, never one to take offenses laying down, had nearly hopped into the crowd herself. Luckily, Seongwoo managed to yank her away just before she wound up her arm for a punch. As the three travelled slowly around the border of the sectioned of theater, Seongwoo couldn’t help but think of Daniel. He merely prayed that the man did not pass by the brouhaha. The mere thought of it made the concubine feel ill with humiliation. Even worse, as Sungwoon had mentioned earlier, he did not wish for the Baes to see. The last thing he desired was to invite any sort of criticism from an outsider upon himself (and consequently, the King).

 

After carefully sneaking about, the trio finally reached the back of the stage. As Seongwoo had predicted, a group of young men had huddled together behind the red patchwork curtain of the stage. Initially, the group collectively jumped back, likely terrified that some savvy fans had deduced their location. When they realized that the intruders were not infatuated fans, a sigh of relief came over them.

 

One of them gave a nervous smile, revealing a single dimple, “I s’pose this is regarding, um, all of-” He gestured beyond the curtain, “All of that. Innit?”

 

“You _suppose_?” Sungwoon asked in wide-eyed indignation. Ong jabbed him with an elbow lightly, urging him not to be so transparently vexed.

 

“Excuse me,” Another man piped up. He wore clothing completely from the first one who’d spoken.

 

Upon further investigation, the two troupes could easily be discerned given their attire. One troupe had dressed rather exotically - likely performing an act that took place in a far off land. Sheer fabrics billowed around their legs, and they wore sashes embellished with faux coins, glass jewels, and nearly anything else that shone. The others wore clothing that resembled what the old gods had been depicted to wear in paintings. Fabrics had been draped over their bodies, likely closed only with pins if anything at all; and, they donned laurels and other bits and bobs around their heads, necks, and wrists.

 

“Yes- Oh, I ought to introduce myself,” The man wearing a toga said. “If I may: my name is- well, you can call me Suho. I, um, oh- what was my point…?” He trailed off into rambling, and the castle trio watched on in disbelief.

 

“Oh, um, I’m RM,” The other, slightly more surly one pointed to himself, delivering another dimpled smile.

 

“That is _great_ , my name is Sungwoon,” The concubine introduced himself in a tone dripping with facetiousness, “That is Seongwoo, and she Eunji, and those people over there-” He pointed beyond the curtain, “-are your followers.”

 

“Wh- You can’t blame us for that! We hardly know these men! I haven’t the foggiest why our fans quarrel as they do,” Another member of the grecian-themed troupe pouted. He sat on the ground a small distance behind Suho, petting a sheep.

 

Seongwoo stepped in, hoping to smooth things over, “Alright, alright. We are aware that this is not what you intended, but you are the only people this crowd will listen to. Please, can you think of anything to make this cease? Or at least move off of castle grounds? Should the King hear about this, he will be cross.” The last bit was a lie, but the actors didn’t know that. Seongwoo hoped it was enough to cause the gears in their head to turn with more urgency.

 

“I’ve got an idea,” Another one of the grecian actors spoke softly. He wore the least of anyone, fully bearing a broad chest with perfectly formed muscles. “You,” The man pointed at a member of the other troupe - a man with plush lips and blond hair. “Follow me.”

 

The exotically costumed man pointed to himself in confusion, “Me?”

 

“Yes, you.”

  
Apparently, those two words were all the blond man needed for convincing. He followed the other, and the two exited through the partition in the red curtains. Everyone else looked on in wide-eyed shock, not quite sure what to say. A few moments passed with nothing happening. Seongwoo had assumed that the men would recite some speech about unity, or ask their followers to exercise kindness and generosity toward one another. Yet, he heard nothing.

 

Nothing at all.

 

It took a few moments for everyone present to realize that even the yelling of those beyond the curtain had been quieted. Seongwoo quirked an eyebrow.

 

“It’s… Gone quiet rather quickly, hasn’t it?” Suho was the first to speak in lieu of the strange stillness.

 

“Indeed,” RM replied.

 

An air of awkwardness hung heavily behind the stage. It quickly grew unbearable until the bold maid finally popped the bubble of silence.

 

“Well, that’s settled,” Eunji said, clapping her hands, “You lot are free to remain here. I, however, have festivities in which I plan on engaging.”

 

“Right,” Sungwoon nodded, “We must be off as well. Um, please stay- stay here for now.” He urged the remaining actors, “Be most cautious and assure that all is well before you step out. We shall assure that all is clear for you shortly, is that alright?” The actors responded with affirmative nods and grunts. “Good. Seongwoo?” The older concubine nodded to the younger.

  
Seongwoo needed no further prompting to follow him out. He’d always fancied the idea of the acting profession. However, the entire uproar served as a stark reminder of the dangers of such a lifestyle. He prayed for the wellbeing for the actors and bid them farewell.

 

The trio walked the long way around the side of the stage, emerging from the back clearing. All three of them had been deeply curious as to how the two actors had quelled the crowd so swiftly. Stunned silence fell over them upon seeing their methodology.

 

“Oh my- We must get the guards to put a stop to this,” Sungwoon huffed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

 

“That certainly is…” Seongwoo tried to take his eyes off the stage as the walked back toward the thick of the festival. He couldn’t. “That certainly is one way to capture an audience.”

 

Eunji wheezed, trying to suppress laughter; she clapped, “Bravo! Bravo-” Seongwoo snatched her hands, giving her a judgemental look. “What? Clearly these are actors who know the desires of their audience. That is worth applauding, is it not?”

 

“Do not encourage this!” Sungwoon said. He placed a hand beside his eyes to block the view of the stage from his peripheral vision. “This is- this is indecent!”

 

“Oh, please! There are stage plays much raunchier than this,” Eunji said. “Look! Half the audience has even done the courtesy of setting the chairs right. Though- speaking of this chair debacle, I ought to pull some people from within the palace to assure everything’s straight again.”

 

“Yes, please, do,” Sungwoon responded. “I’m not sure how long this- this debauchery can endure. Surely the spell will not last forever. I shall see if someone with more pull than I can gather some guards for when this inevitably ceases.”

 

“Sungwoon, please,” Seongwoo muttered, “Give me task. I cannot take my eyes off of the stage.”

 

Eunji laughed, “You are worse than them,” She looked toward the fans who watched on in stunned awe.

 

“Seongwoo you have an important job. Stand watch around the perimeter. If you see King Daniel or the Baes, keep them far, far away from this mess.”

 

“I can do that,” Seongwoo nodded in acceptance, “Yes, I can do that.”

 

The three quickly split off. Eunji bounded toward the castle to collect labor as she’d told them. Sungwoon hiked off, his short legs moving rapidly in search of considerate guards. Seongwoo took a spot toward the threshold between the core of the gardens and the tangential space that had been allotted to the theater. He watched dutifully, keeping a watchful eye out for any hint of Daniel or either of the Baes. Occasionally, despite his better judgement, his eyes drifted behind, to the stage.

 

He had to commend the two; they were excellent actors. The barely clothed grecian god held the exotic dancer close, and their lips tangled untiringly. Whether it was due to shock or a carnal gratification of sorts, the image captivated the audience. Seongwoo wondered how long the two could go on like that, kissing passionately (or, at least, acting as if it was passionate). The concubine turned his gaze back toward the celebrations inward.

 

People passed by, jubilantly bouncing around. They ate, drank, and conversed with one another. Seongwoo envied them. He wished that he could engage in such gaiety with his most treasured one. Part of him hoped that Daniel had been enjoying himself with the Baes and the other nobles. A more petty part of him hoped that he hadn’t, and that he missed his concubine dearly.

 

Ong felt embarrassed harboring such childish thoughts.

 

He looked on, willing himself to enjoy the festival vicariously, through those passing by.

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo scanned the contents of the note he’d received with butterflies in his stomach. He read it again and again, eyes tracing the clumsy scrawl:

 

“ _When the sun begins to set, meet me._ _We shall meet at the edge of the tree line, directly south of the southwest fountain._

 

 _D._ ”

 

He thought he’d been forgotten for certain. Surely, Ong mused, the man intended on busying himself with wooing the Baes. They were powerful potential allies, and their fairness certainly added an extra quality of sweetness, no doubt. The note had come as an immense surprise to him. He and Eunji had been taking a rest after the theater debacle when he’d been approached by a messenger.

 

Part of the concubine prayed he hadn’t walked into some maliciously sprung trap. Though he did not have numerous enemies in the castle, the few he had were dangerous and high in status.

 

Thankfully, the amount of activity gave him at least a sliver of security. Even those who despised him had little incentive to harm him. He could hardly see the reason to go after a glamorous servant. Regardless of his logical thoughts, nerves still bustled about inside his gut.

 

“You got my note,” A familiar voice called out from behind a tree. Seongwoo turned around, his shoulders slackening with relief at the sight of Daniel and not some assassin.

 

“You sent a note,” Seongwoo replied, surprise in his tone.

  
“I wanted to see you. Spending such a wonderful event without the person I care for the most… It seems like such a waste.”

 

The concubine’s heart flipped about in his chest. It made him feel foolish, to be so rustled by mere words, but he couldn’t help it. He felt relieved; he’d at least shed the reservations that he’d tried using to chain down the feelings prior.

 

“Wonderful… So, you like what we’ve done then?” Seongwoo asked. A pleasant warmth radiated from his chest. Daniel flashed an enamored smile, crossing the small distance between them. He took Seongwoo’s hand before answering.

 

“Like it? I love it. You’ve done incredibly. I’m so proud, and… Well, to speak frankly, I believe you have made improvements,” He chuckled sheepishly.

 

The concubine tried to keep his grin demure in response, “It wasn’t achieved alone.”

 

“You were in head of it with Sungwoon! I will hear no more of this bashfulness. You’ve done well. I am proud of you.”

 

Seongwoo felt his heart glow. He didn’t know how to react to the kind words. The concubine felt almost criminal accepting such accolades. It didn’t sit right with him, to take such praises while knowing the extent to which he did not deserve them. Still, the man could never quite refuse his majesty, so he replied, softly.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“It is I who needs to thank you,” Daniel cupped Seongwoo’s face and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead.

 

The concubine smirked, “Is that all?”

 

“What?”

 

“Is that how I am to be thanked? After a month’s toil and work, a mere kiss on the forehead is my restitution?”

 

Daniel laughed, “Did you think I would invite you to the edge of the festival for a mere thank you?”

 

“I never know quite what to think of you.”

 

“Perhaps therein lies the issue. You think too much,” The King brought his upturned lips to Seongwoo’s. The concubine returned the kiss happily, warmth running over him.

 

The kiss deepened gradually. They each bathed in the sensation of the other, neither particularly rushed. In the midst of the festival’s chaos, the two had carved out a peaceful niche. When their lips weren’t sealed against one another, their noses nuzzled, and their arms wrapped around one another.

 

Seongwoo’s tongue slipped between Daniel’s lips, prodding insistently. Their tongues brushed, and the quiet smack of their lips intermingled with the sound of festivities drifting to the edges of the grounds. The concubine pulled Daniel closer, taking hold of his jacket. Hints of anxiety tinged his thoughts, but it was not due to their actions. The mere thought of nerves, the anticipation of further anxiety, caused him unsettlement. Regardless, he opted to immerse himself in the sensation of the other as much as he could. He wanted desperately to enjoy Daniel. Part of him could not shake the feeling of how fleeting their time together was. Little mewls left his lips as he slotted himself more snugly against the King. He nipped impatiently at the other’s lower lip roughly.

 

Daniel chuckled, “Which one of us is King and concubine?”

 

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

 

“Do not apologize. Perhaps… I quite like the blurring of these lines,” A cheeky smile crossed Daniel’s lips. Something in the man’s latent implications stoked the fire in Seongwoo’s stomach.

 

The concubine grinned, eagerly descending onto the man’s neck once more. He wondered what sort of scandal would ensue should he make marks. A streak of selfishness overcame the man, and he opted not to care. Seongwoo bit the spot beneath Daniel’s ear gently, just enough for the skin to flush nicely. A small gasp escaped the King’s lips, and the ruler tilted his head, giving over more skin to the concubine. Rushing rapture filled Seongwoo’s veins, running through him in a dizzying wave.

 

It was his turn to mark territory. His territory. It belonged to no King, Queen, or Prince; it belonged to him: a mere man.

 

Seongwoo separated for a moment to study the King’s face. Daniel looked dazed and desirous. Satisfied, the concubine shoved the other, not taking his eyes off the man. The King’s body bounced slightly as he collided with the tree behind him, but he didn’t appear to be hurt or even slightly bothered. Swiftly, the concubine pinned the other against the trunk of the tree; he pushed his body flush against the other’s, giving no room for escape.

 

They clashed again, this time with more ferocity on the side of the concubine. He drank in every little gasp and whine that left Daniel’s lips. Their ignition fueled him, and he became more and more mercurial with each moment. He bit and sucked at his Master’s plush lips before moving downwards once more. Seongwoo realized: he’d never gotten to handle the man in such a manner before. Never had he anticipated it to feel so intoxicating, so satiating, to take charge. Seongwoo could not diminish the effect that the other had on him. Having Daniel on top of him, claiming him, worshipping him through lips and licks, held its own bliss. However, one drop of command had proven enough to send the concubine reeling.

 

Soon, attentions given with lips alone were not enough, and Seongwoo’s hands began to explore. They did so with lascivious intention; one slipped behind his majesty, squeezing his ass covetously. The other shamelessly slipped between them, groping greedily at the other’s half-hard cock. Daniel inhaled sharply as he folded to the other’s will with glee. His majesty clutched at Seongwoo’s waist, writhing beneath the other.

  
Seongwoo took a fist full of the King’s jacket, whispering gruffly, “Perhaps we could continue this in bed.” Daniel nodded enthusiastically, too busy catching his breath to answer. The sight had stricken Seongwoo so impactfully that he had to steal another kiss. And another. And another. The concubine had become immensely preoccupied sucking and lapping at the other’s lips, and he hadn’t noticed any sign of a person nearby.

 

“Care to have a fortune told?” A cool voice called out from beside the two.

 

Seongwoo nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned on his heel to come face to face with the person who’d unceremoniously showed up. His eyes widened, and his face burned with embarrassment and annoyance.

 

His majesty jolted away as well. He stumbled slightly, clasping his hands in front of his crotch and looking away. The two had been at the edge of the treeline, and most of the tents faced away from them. With the amount of noise and activity directed inward, toward the gardens, the two had felt assured in their secrecy.

 

Apparently, their sense of security had been ill found.

 

“A fortune?” Daniel coughed awkwardly; he straightened himself, shuffling forward in an attempt to appear more dignified. “If a King is spotted engaging in such heresy I daresay it would cause a stir.”

 

The man who’d addressed them appeared young; no older than King Daniel, surely. His hair was the color of straw. He was rather small in stature, no taller than even Seongwoo, and his shoulders (along with everything about his figure) were narrow. He’d dressed much more simply than one would anticipate of a fortune teller. His ears had been adorned with various golden rings, and he wore a beautifully woven sash around his waist. Dozens of necklaces, some of gold some of silver, wrapped around his neck. Aside from a few more adornments, the man could be described as fairly plain. He certainly did not embody the common reputation assigned to fortune tellers and other mystic types.

 

“A seer is sworn to secrecy,” The man strode closer slowly. His gaze had a piercing quality to it, and his voice sounded almost soothing in its softness, “I am not from this country. I am from a land far gone. I’ve no incentive to spread rumors or gossip. You have my word.” He gave King Daniel a bow.

 

The King glanced at Seongwoo, an eyebrow raised, then back at the mysterious wisp of a man who’d regarded them. Ong felt a slight twinge of nerves flare up at the wordless inquiry. Daniel had always been fairly curious; he wanted to get a fortune told. Even if only for indulgence or to bend the rules slightly, he had the desire. Seongwoo could hardly think of a reason to tell the man “no”. The idea of having the man in front of them dictate their fates made him shudder, but his shoulders sagged in defeat nonetheless. The concubine nodded at his Master, affirming him to press onward.

 

“I have your word?” Daniel asked. He inspected the man in front of them. “How about a name, instead?”

 

The straw-haired man gave his majesty a courteous grin. With a respectful bow, he introduced himself: “Seer Holland, at your service.”

 

“Holland? Quite a funny name,” Daniel replied, giving a polite nod in return to the greeting.

 

“It is the name given unto me by the spirits with whom I commune.”

 

Daniel grinned slightly at the comment. At the very least, Ong thought, the man wasn’t buying into the nonsense. His majesty continued conversing.

 

“Fascinating. Obviously as a devout person I never engaged in such things, however… Perhaps I have been a tad… Curious. I am sure God will forgive me this one transgression.”

 

Holland chuckled, “I assure you, with certainty, that any ill fate that is to fall upon you will not be due to a reading. As for anything beyond that…” He turned and began striding toward his tent, “I suppose you ought to come in and find out.”

 

The King interlaced his fingers with his concubine’s giddily, nearly skipping behind the “seer” to enter the tent. Seongwoo couldn’t help but feel a pit in his stomach. Talk of futures and fates made him feel ill. His one consolation was that Daniel looked incredibly excited about the whole thing. Seongwoo wished he could share such enthusiasm. Holland held open the thick, red curtain of his tent, gesturing for the other two to enter. Little could be seen through the crack other than candlelight. The two exchanged one last glance before entering.

 

The first thing that Seongwoo noticed was the smell: burning sage and rosemary. Once the heavy red curtain had fallen shut behind the two, it became incredibly dim. Flickering candles sat atop tables around the perimeter of the tent. With their light, the two could make out the varying intricate patterns on the tent. Exotic textiles patched together to create an intriguing array of shapes and textures. Beneath them an equally as ornate rug spanned the space; not a single blade of grass or speck of dirt showed through the tiled rugs. In the middle sat the focal point, a small, round table with a crystal globe atop it. Surrounding it was a myriad of little candles, hollowed geodes full of tiny crystals, and bundled herbs. Two mismatched chairs sat in front of it, and behind it a more grand one (for the fortune teller, no doubt). The entire space had been arranged in such a way that it looked busy and ramshackle, yet painstakingly deliberate at the same time.

 

Seongwoo felt as if he’d stepped into another place entirely. The veil of curtains surrounding them even managed to stifle the festivities just outside. Something about it put him on edge. He suddenly felt a desperate need to connect himself with the other world, the one outside. He thought that, somehow, being out there would be better. It would serve as a way to distance him from his deepest thoughts. However, there, in the dark tent, there was little to distract oneself from reality.

 

“Incredible,” Daniel gasped hushedly. The entire tent felt so immensely quiet that a normal speaking voice felt excessive. The enigmatically named Holland glided in behind the two.

 

Taking a spot by the worn velvet seat, the man gestured toward the two, “Sit, please.” He invited them. The King and his concubine obliged, each taking their seat. Holland sat after the other two. He rolled up his sleeves before letting his hands rest idly on the crystal globe. “In front of you, I am sure you see the crystals in the bowls, yes?”

 

Seongwoo and Daniel look at one another again. Daniel appeared curious and interested; Seongwoo tried not to look as if he’d caught an illness. When the moment had passed, they nodded at Holland.

 

“Excellent,” The seer said calmly, “Please take one in your hand. Just one. Take whichever one your soul calls out to.”

 

“I-is this going to tell our future?” Daniel blurted out. Seongwoo wanted to hide his face in his hands due to embarrassment on the other’s behalf. He felt lucky that his Master happened to be incredibly endearing, or his behavior would have been infinitely more vexing.

 

Holland laughed, “Actually, it is to be used as a tool in meditation. In order for me to give the best readings, my subjects must have a clear, unburdened mind. Channeling energy into objects is one of the most ancient practices of the craft there is. By focusing your energy into the crystal, it will give me a better reading. That all being said, what you gravitate to in a stone can be quite telling on its own.”

 

“Oh,” His majesty said in awe. Seongwoo and he each grabbed a random crystal (whichever called to their soul, as Holland said). The concubine hoped that the peculiar fellow in front of him had little interest in him. He frowned upon learning that he’d been wrong.

 

“Interesting choice, Seongwoo,” Holland uttered, a pleased grin at the edge of his lips.

 

“What?” Seongwoo replied, annoyance spiking in his chest.

 

“Yes, what’s interesting about it?” Daniel’s eyes bore into the rough crystal in the palm of his concubine’s hand. His inquiry, unlike Seongwoo’s, had nothing but sheer wonderment in its tone.

 

The fortune teller eyed the crystal quizzically, “Rose quartz. Quite the romantic stone. It is a facilitator of compassion and unconditional love. Very adept at opening up the heart chakras-”

 

“Fascinating,” Seongwoo cut the man off. His face blazed a deep shade of red, and his heart jumped into his throat. The concubine could feel the gaze of his majesty on him heavily. Despite his better judgement, he glanced over. A tiny grin sat on Daniel’s lips, a cross between amusement and adoration. Ong knew it should not have caused such a stir in him, but he felt powerless to stop his heart from flittering about inside of him. Holland drank up the visible response the two had shown. He watched the King and his concubine discerningly before glancing at the stone held in King Daniel’s hand.

 

“And you,” The diviner turned toward Daniel, “have chosen quite a tough stone.”

 

“Tough?” The King asked.

 

“Your soul has chosen malachite. Many stones lend themselves well to cleansing energies, but malachite is perhaps the most potent of them all. It is called a stone of transformation. The changes it manifests are typically quite drastic,”  Holland chuckled slightly. “Being drawn to such a stone… Perhaps your spirit craves dramatic change.”

 

Daniel looked at Holland with wide eyes, but he did not say anything. The diviner took that as enough prompting to move on.

 

“Now that you two have grabbed your stones, I want you to close your eyes. Please, relax. With your eyes closed, focus on your breathing. Even, steady breaths, in and out…” Holland’s soft voice suited the leading of meditation well. Seongwoo’s eyes darted over to Daniel who, unsurprisingly, had shut his eyes immediately. Reluctantly, the concubine blinked his own shut (but not before shooting Holland an irked look). If the seer noticed (or cared), he made no indication, leading the meditation further.

 

“Now, close your hands around the stones you’d picked and squeeze them gently. Focus on steady, even breaths in tandem with the sensation of the stone in your palm. As you squeeze the stone, channel all of your negative energy into it. Squeeze firmly, instilling into it all of your worries, your fears, and your anxieties. Let the stone bear that weight, creating room in your mind for clarity.”

 

As much as Seongwoo loathed the idea of it, he couldn’t help but oblige. Holland’s voice had a way of easing one into a sense of security. He droned on softly, seducing the concubine’s worried mind into a state of relative relaxation.

 

“When you are ready,” The fortune teller spoke again, “Blink your eyes open softly, reemerging anew, refreshed, and with an open mind.” The King and the concubine did as they’d been told, each opening their eyes. “You may put your stones back, then we may begin.” His majesty and the concubine returned their stones to the geode bowl, awaiting further instruction.

 

“When you are ready, you may ask a question. I am no witch, nor some all seeing being. I am merely a human who has been gifted the ability to see and hear what others cannot. That being said, the other realm needn’t hear your question aloud to answer it, you may ask with your heart if it suits you.”

 

“If I may ask,” Daniel spoke quietly, “What type of question am I to pose?”

 

“Any question your heart desires, your majesty. You need not say it aloud for the spirits to hear. Place your hand on the divining orb, and concentrate on what you wish to ask. Be it about future, past, or present. Do you seek council regarding today? Or insight on what shall happen tomorrow? Place your hand on the scrying orb, and ask.”

 

Seongwoo watched as Daniel nibbled on his lower lip in thought. The man seriously contemplated what question he wanted to pose to a con artist with a crystal ball. The concubine wanted to roll his eyes, but he refrained. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on the other. He felt rather curious about what the man would wish to ask. Hesitantly, his majesty extended his hand, letting his fingertips rest on the crystal centerpiece. His brows knit together, and he poured his thoughts into whatever question he so greatly wished to ask the spirit realm.

 

A pause ensued; only the sounds of their steady breaths filled the tent. Daniel’s eyes remained closed, and Holland had even closed his own (for the sake of theatrics, most likely). Seongwoo’s pupils moved between the two, waiting for something to happen. He nearly jolted out of his chair when Holland finally piped up once more.

 

“Your majesty,” He said, his eyes opening. He gazed fixedly into the orb as he continued, his voice taking on an almost airy quality,“Such a simple question you have asked. A simple question with a most complicated outcome.” Daniel’s eyes shot open, and he looked on in awe as the diviner spoke. “Your heroism knows no bounds. It is your greatest quality, but it also serves as your most pronounced weakness. No hero can save everyone, yet, true to their noble nature, they try. Though admirable, the weight of the earth will eventually cause even the most mighty to kneel. To this inquiry, the spirits return a question of their own, King Daniel: Do you wish to spend the rest of your life on one knee, with your gaze fixed to the ground?”

 

The King looked at Holland with his mouth ajar. Suddenly, the seer seemingly snapped out of his trance. He blinked rapidly, sitting up more straight than before. Taking his hands off the globe, Holland spoke:

 

“I hope that gave worthy insight, your majesty.” He said meekly. “I understand that not all answers may be explicit as one may wish, but I assure you-”

 

“It’s alright,” Daniel cut him off. “Apologies for the interruption. It’s… It’s alright.” Holland gave a glowing smile, and Seongwoo swore for an instant the man looked at him smugly. The moment passed quickly, and soon the diviner moved on to the concubine.

 

“Seongwoo, what would you like to ask?”

 

“O-oh. Me? I- I am quite- you needn’t go to the trouble.” Seongwoo threw his hands up, shaking his head.

 

“It is no trouble at all using my God given gift to do my calling.”

 

“I- I cannot think of what I would possibly ask-” The concubine could see the King looking at him from the corner of his eye. A sudden inclination not to disappoint the other overtook him. He felt as if he was indulging a child. He lacked the heart to tell his majesty that fortunes were not real. With a sigh, the concubine conceded, “Would you kindly remind me of the procedure?”

 

Holland beamed, recounting that Ong needed to place his hands on the globe and inquire. Once again suppressing a roll of the eyes, Seongwoo did just that. The concubine made sure to even close his eyes as Daniel had done; even without vision, he knew the others present were scrutinizing him carefully.

 

“Now, Seongwoo, tell the spirits what it is you wish to know,” Holland said, grasping the globe once more. The concubine tried to appear thoughtful.

 

In reality, he did not know what he would want to ask the spirit world if he did believe in it. The more he thought of the future, the more anxiety inducing it became. He also had no desire to relive or ask about the past. He thought that, perhaps, it’d be interesting learning about the true fate that had befallen Queen Somi. However, given his current state of affairs, the piece of information seemed so irrelevant. Though it vexed him, he hardly had had the luxury of caring.

 

Another thought crossed his mind: what was there to do about invasive memories ruining good things?

 

“The spirits speak of immense uncertainty clouding your mind,” Holland’s voice broke Seongwoo out of his reflections. The concubine frowned, and the diviner continued, “You have endured great struggle and still continue to do so. You, chooser of the rose quartz, wish to open your heart chakra completely, but there are reservations.”

  
Seongwoo decided he wanted to smack Holland.

 

The seer spoke more, sounding almost carefree in his trance-like drone, “Because of this, your readings are muddy. However, this I can discern: soon, all will be well. The spirits show me things… Mere glimpses, but I- I…” He tilts his head, looking more intently at the crystal globe, “I see sunlight. Cloudless skies as far as the eye can see. Loved ones surrounding you. Floating on a sea of stars… However, for this you have paid no small price. You have worked tirelessly, and soon you shall be rewarded… That is all I can see.”

  
Holland removed his hands from the globe, blinking a few more times before regarding the two in front of him. Daniel scrutinized Seongwoo conspicuously. The concubine pursed his lips in displeasure. His heart sunk slightly.

 

“Thank you two for allowing me to share this time with you,” Holland said. “While I am capable of trying to discern more from the scrying orb, the spirits do not take kindly to greed.”

 

“Of course,” Daniel said, giving a courteous smile. His majesty stood up, giving a polite nod, and Seongwoo followed. “Shall we, Seongwoo?” Holland rose, striding slowly toward the threshold of his tent. He pulled the curtain open as he spoke.

 

“Go in peace,” The seer gave the two a dreamy smile, as if he wasn’t directing it at the humans, but at something more implicit. “And may the greater entities bless you. I believe fate will cause our paths to cross again very soon.”

 

“And peace be with you as well, Holland,” Daniel replied with a nod before exiting the tent. Seongwoo followed, not dignifying the farewell with a response. The entire affair had made him extremely uncomfortable.

 

Upon crossing the threshold from tent to outdoors, the concubine felt relieved. He hadn’t realized how much warmer the tent was, and how oppressive the smell of burning herbs could be. Taking a deep breath, Seongwoo contentedly walked onward. Crisp, cool air filled his lungs, and noise began trickling back into his ears. He and Daniel distanced themselves from the fortune teller’s tent, and Ong thought he’d been free, ready to enjoy what remained of the first night.

 

“Wait, Seongwoo!” Holland shouted after him from outside his tent. The King and the concubine halted. Seongwoo bit his lip nervously and turned around. “You’ve left something here,” The diviner beckoned the concubine toward the tent once.

 

“O-oh,” Seongwoo muttered. He paced quickly back toward the slender man beckoning him and, upon seeing Daniel follow, instructed, “You needn’t follow me. It’ll be but a few moments.” The King nodded, taking a spot next to a tree to wait for his concubine.

 

Annoyance and anxiety twisting and twirling about in his gut, Seongwoo approached.

 

Holland spoke in whispers, “In here,” He directed the other back into the tent. Once again a veil of oppressive warmth and herbal fragrance surrounded Seongwoo. He knew damn well he hadn’t left a thing in the tent; he hadn’t been carrying anything. The alleged “seer” looked Seongwoo in the eye intensely when the curtain fell once more. An indiscernible mix of emotions toiled just beneath the slim man’s dark eyes. Unequivocal discomfort wrapped itself around the concubine at the sight of it.

 

“Seongwoo,” Holland said softly. He looked away nervously for a mere instant before his eyes darted back to the other’s gaze. “It is too late.”

 

Ong’s gut wrenched, he sputtered out, “What are you talking about?”

 

The seer continued, disregarding the inquiry, “You must make your peace with this. One cannot turn back on their feelings, and denial only causes more pain to arise. However…” He considered his words carefully, “Your time is limited. What is left unsaid now will be unspeakable in your future. You- I have- I have seen-”

 

“Stop it,” Seongwoo muttered. Thorny nerves pricked his heart, slowly suffocating him.

 

“I have seen- I- I know- Seongwoo-” Holland grew increasingly frantic in attempting to choose his words. His pained expression showed how terribly he desired to communicate clearly, but he found himself unable to do so.

 

“Stop it,” The concubine started walking back toward the edge. “I know not of what you speak-”

 

“You _do_ ,” The diviner insisted, “And you can choose to close yourself off, but you will come to regret it. I am- The spirits are not asking you to to undergo some heinous trial. We- we are telling you to indulge.”

 

“In what?”

 

“Need I say it out loud?” The diviner quirked an eyebrow knowingly.

 

“You do not need to say anything because you know nothing of what’s gone on here-”

 

“I am a seer. I know precisely what I must, and we both know that time stops for no man… No woman… No king nor concubine, and it certainly will not do so for the sake of… Affections.”

 

“It is- it is not what you think.”

 

“What I think matters not. The spirits communicate to me through visions, and with my gift I am enlightened by-”

 

“Have you had enough of this charade?”  Seongwoo asked bitterly. He crossed his arms indignantly. “You seem to enjoy this character immensely. I do hope you’ve not deluded yourself into truly believing in these theatrics. One can occupy the role of a character without believing they are the character, you know.”

 

The seer frowned, “There is one person here who has lost themself in a role, and it is not I.”

 

Seongwoo felt a chill run over him. He mounted no response.

 

“Go,” Holland said softly after a heavy pause, “Your majesty is surely waiting for you. Enjoy his company. He certainly seems to enjoy yours.”

 

The concubine did just that. Without another word, he threw the hefty red curtain open, trudging out. Stresses and anxieties grappled inside his chest as he approached the King.

 

Daniel greeted Seongwoo with a soft smile, “Were you able to find what you le- oh!” His eyebrows raised in surprise. Wordlessly, the concubine had grasped the fine cloth of his majesty’s jacket and dug his face into the crook of his neck. Seongwoo sighed heavily into the other’s neck, uncaring as to how it tickled him. Reflexively, the King’s long arms wrapped around the other, pulling him close. “Seongwoo, is everything alright? He- that fortune teller, did he say anything to you? If he said anything to offend you, know I will take it as a _personal_ offense-”

 

Ong shook his head. Finally, he looked up and flashed Daniel a sweet smile.

 

“You needn’t worry. He did no such thing. I merely missed you, that is all.”

 

Daniel grinned sheepishly, “We were separated for a few minutes at most.”

 

“I know. I suppose I…” The concubine bit his lip and looked away in embarrassment, “I like being by your side very much.” The King’s expression softened, and he looked upon his concubine with even greater fondness than before.

 

“I like you being by my side as well,” Something flickered across Daniel’s gaze; something that Seongwoo could not identify. It worried him. The expression looked to be something of doubt or perhaps even dread. It made his blood run cold. Whatever unidentifiable expression the man’s eyes had betrayed, it’d passed quickly.

 

“Well, one should hope so,” Ong attempted a laugh. Though not his most mirthful, it seemed to accomplish lifting the mood if only slightly. “Imagine if you’d kept me all this time and I drove you absolutely mad.”

 

“You _do_ drive me absolutely mad,” Daniel said with a smirk.

 

“ _Boom_ !”   
  
Seongwoo jumped at the booming noise that erupted through the night air. A flash of light gleamed across the sky, followed by another loud noise.

 

“ _Boooom_ !” “ _Craaaack_ !!” “ _Fizzz, fizzz._ ”

 

Daniel gasped, “Are those fireworks?”

 

“Y-yes, you’re right,” Seongwoo laughed, “For a moment it sounded like cannons!”

 

The King’s head darted around, “We must find somewhere to watch!” Without warning, he grabbed Seongwoo be the wrist and began dragging him across the edge of the treeline.

 

“Wha- Where are we going? The grounds are rather flat, aren’t they?” Ong asked, his feet picking up pace to keep up with the enthusiastic King.

 

“I need to find a good one,” Daniel mused aloud, eyeing the woods.

 

“ _Booom_ !” “ _Craaaaackle_.”

 

“A good wha- What are you on about?” Seongwoo struggled to keep up with the other’s long-legged strides. Abruptly, his majesty halted, causing Ong to nearly crash into him. The King let go of his concubine’s hand and dashed toward a nearby tree. It appeared to be an ancient oak. Thick limbs jutted out in every which way, and it stood as high as a house. His majesty shrugged off his opulent jacket, letting the expensive garment drop to the ground without care. Taking hold of a lower limb, he heaved himself onto the thick limb with ease, letting his legs swing when he took a seat.

 

“Come on,” Daniel nodded toward the tree, a cheeky smile across his lips.

 

The concubine eyed the tree dubiously. He had confidence in his physical capabilities; however, he felt skeptical of the tree itself.

 

“Do not worry, it can hold us,” His majesty scooted over on the branch slightly, patting a spot next to him, “We need not go too high, just enough to see over the tents.”

 

Ong bit his lip nervously, “What makes you so certain it will hold us?”

 

“If it assures you, I can give it a test,” Daniel stood up, balance wavering slightly. When he’d steadied himself, he began bouncing experimentally.

 

Seongwoo’s eyes widened, “No- No- that is not- that is not necessary, stop it!”

 

“Come up here and I’ll stop,” The other jeered in a singsong voice. The concubine questioned whether or not the man in front of him was truly an adult. Watching the tree branches jostle and shake beneath the King quickly wore him down.

 

“A-alright, alright! Just, please-” The concubine approached the tree warily. Daniel, as promised, stopped. Sitting back down, he extended a hand to the other with a warm smile. Seongwoo eyed the goliath of a tree nervously. It had been so incredibly long since he’d climbed a tree. He questioned whether or not he still knew how, as silly as it felt. After a brief duration of contemplation, the concubine grasped the thick limb of the tree and hopped up. Seongwoo lifted himself onto the branch with ease that surprised himself, pleasantly so. He sat himself next to the King, giving the other a small grin.

 

“I knew you could do it. Now- This seat is adequate, however… I believe we can do better,” Daniel looked up at the entanglement of thick branches above them. They wound in every which way, weaving a thick web of wood festooned with foliage. He quickly analyzed the old oak before extending his long limbs, reaching for the branch immediately above. After scaling a few more limbs, he settled on one about a person’s height above Seongwoo and looked down. “Can you reach me here?”

 

Seongwoo, more confident, moved adeptly. He moved quickly from limb to limb, finding it easy given the massive scale of the thing. Finally, he reached the same limb as Daniel. He glanced beneath them, shocked to see just how high they’d gotten. He nearly felt woozy at the distance. He’d never had a particular affinity with heights. As a child, he climbed perhaps one or two branches of a tree before deciding he ought to stop.

 

“Don’t look there,” Daniel instructed, taking hold of the concubine’s chin gently. He guided Seongwoo’s gaze toward the castle in the distance.

 

“ _Booom_ !” “ _Craaack_ !!” “ _Sizzz…_ ”

 

Colorful sparks illuminated the night, bursting before branching out into the sky and eventually fading. While the fireworks were a beautiful spectacle, Seongwoo found himself enamored with the entire sight. From their spot, at the edge of the grounds, above all else, he could see all of it. His hard work, and the hard work of many others, laid out in front of him. Tents stretched across the gardens as far as the eye could see. They wrapped around shaped hedges and encircled fountains in a comely fashion. Tiny, shuffling bodies scurried about happily: people. Some moved rushedly while others remained still, awestruck by the fiery display above. Banners and garland had been strung across the expanse, and it created the impression of a vividly colored spider’s web, spanning the entire grounds. Tiny rivulets of smoke rose from the tents who’d utilized fire during the daytime. He thought it likely that those people had already put their fires out, readying themselves for a night’s rest. The concubine could not help feeling amazed.

 

The King’s hand fell from his concubine’s chin to take hold of the other’s hand. He interlaced their fingers and gave the other a reassuring squeeze.

 

“See?” He said quietly, “It is much better if you look out as opposed to down.”

 

“Yes. You’re quite right,” Seongwoo replied.

 

The two sat in content silence for awhile. They watched the fireworks soar into the sky, fleetingly painting it in vivid sparks before disappearing without a trace.

 

A hand moved to cup Seongwoo’s face, and the concubine’s gaze finally left the horizon. His eyes met Daniel’s, and it caused his heart to swell. How he wished he could exist in a moment such as that eternally.

 

“You’ve done well,” Daniel said.

 

“Have I?” Seongwoo asked. “I’ve no frame of reference.” He laughed softly.

 

“Yes, you have. I… Seongwoo, I wish I had words to express how… How privileged I am to be in your presence. How happy I am to know you.”

 

Tears welled up in Seongwoo’s eyes. Initially, he didn’t know why. Though he conceded that many emotions tugged at his heart, happiness was the one that had been prevailing in that moment. Sweet, saccharine delight mixed and melded with the bitter understanding of how fleeting their existence, and that moment, was.

 

“I…” Seongwoo tried to formulate an answer, “I…” He didn’t know what to say. Telling the man that he was happy to know him would have been dishonest given their circumstances. The concubine believed that, in another life, he could have returned the feeling in earnest. However, too many things that he could not ignore had brought him to that place. “I don’t know what to say. I do not believe I deserve such esteem.” He spoke truth.

 

The King’s thumb caressed the concubine’s cheek idly, “You only say so because you do not understand how you have helped me; how you have opened my eyes.”

 

“Daniel, I…” Seongwoo’s heart pounded. It weighed on him heavily, the words he felt so inclined to say. The admission would compromise everything, but he felt an immense wave of guilt crash over him. Daniel had always looked at Seongwoo in such a kind light, yet the concubine had been so incredibly dishonest and complicated in their relations. He thought he owed it to the man to be honest if only once. Perhaps, he hoped, it would start genuinely bridging the rift remaining between them. Even if it wounded him to admit it; even it if it meant ruining things. “I need to tell you something.”

 

“Yes, Seongwoo?” Daniel looked at the other attentively, his gaze searching. He sounded almost short of breath, teetering on the edge of his rhetorical seat.

 

“I…” His very being vibrated with jittery nerves. “I- u-um- actually, pay it no mind.”

 

“Please, tell me. You do not have to if you truly cannot, but I promise that I will regard anything you say with an open mind.”

 

Seongwoo’s lips pressed together momentarily before he opened them once more, “I, um,” He struggled to look the man in the eye. Pressure mounted heavily upon his shoulders. “I- Daniel, I…” He glanced at the man again. His Master looked at him with such care and attentiveness. It felt a disgrace to dignify the man’s gentle nature with nothing. Words entangled in the concubine’s mind, vying for dominance, fighting to be the ones he’d let out. Finally, in a momentary episode of bravery, Seongwoo spoke:

 

“I don’t want you to marry Queen Irene,” He snapped his mouth shut, eyeing the other nervously. Daniel’s own eyes glossed over with apparent tears. He smiled at Seongwoo sweetly.

 

“Seongwoo…”

 

“I- I am afraid that you will… You will dispose of me, and- and for all of this time fighting for- for it to mean nothing. I-” The concubine’s words were cut of by the other’s lips on his. His tears overflowed, warm droplets running down his cheeks. Daniel reached his other hand, the one that’d been tangled with Seongwoo’s, to the concubine’s face. He held the other firmly in place as he nuzzled him, delicately kissing the hot trails of tears along his face. The King’s thumbs stroked away excess wetness.

 

“You are not an object that I will tire of and throw away. You are Seongwoo,” Daniel’s voice sounded heavier; he held back tears. “I will cherish you always.”

 

“I- I am not so certain of that-”

 

“I speak the truth. Seongwoo, I- I think I-”

 

“Don’t,” Seongwoo interjected. “Don’t speak anymore. I am tired of words.” He gave Daniel a peck on the lips, “I am tired of everything. May I ask something of you?”

 

“Anything.”

 

“Please, just… Kiss me-” He’d barely finished his request before lips met his once more with renewed fervor. Seongwoo quickly looped his arms around Daniel’s neck to return the other’s ministrations with equal ardor. Muffled sighs and smacking lips sounded out softly, and warmth spread from Seongwoo’s chest to the tips of his fingers and toes. He wished he could live in the sensation.

 

Fireworks blasted off in the distance, and spread out in the sky. Beyond the tree on which they sat, a universe of festivities ensued. In that moment, however, neither cared for such extravagance. The two relished in their peace, indulging in one another’s lips, undisturbed by the outside world. Though each had their own set of worries and obligations, they shoved those away from the light. For the duration of that evening, they were not a King and a concubine, two ill-gotten fates intertwined.

 

They were two men.

  
Two people with one wish:

  
To be with one another.

  



	27. Tales of the Harvest Festival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 27 WARNING(s): minor depictions of violence

Rising rays of sunlight began trickling into Advisor Yoon Jisung’s bedchamber window. Just beyond the pane of glass, early morning activities had already begun taking way. People who’d set up tents had long since begun setting up. Inside the stone walls, a different story unfolded.

 

Sungwoon had been awake for some time. Had it been a quarter hour? Half an hour? He wasn’t quite sure. He didn’t mind it one bit. Next to him, the sleeping form ofhis husband rose and fell with steady breaths. The concubine had always liked being the first to wake up.

 

“Mn…” Jisung stirred beside the concubine. The advisor shuffled his body closer to the other’s. He didn’t bother opening his eyes as he garbled out his first words of the day. “No morning… No sun…” His arm wrapped more tightly around the other.

 

Sungwoon softly chuckled, “Yes morning.” He replied. Jisung’s presence wrapped around him like a blanket. The concubine felt easeful, wrapped in the other’s warmth. Sunlight beckoned the two up and out, but Sungwoon didn’t want to leave. His beloved and he never had much time to spend with one another. Passing encounters and formal functions made up the majority of their daylight associations. Upon rare occasions, they were granted the privilege to indulge in one another. However, those times were few and far between. Only in the early morning or late night could they truly take one another’s side. 

 

“Blasted sun,” Jisung mumbled accursedly, “Can you tell a messenger that I’m terribly ill?” He asked Sungwoon.

 

Sungwoon snorted, “No! You needn’t worry much, anyways. It’s festival day, you haven’t any formal obligations. Though I believe  you’re expected to be present by his majesty’s side; for the sake of wooing the Baes’ I assume.”

 

“Daniel’s capable of doing so by himself. The Baes are by no means bad people, but-” The advisor nuzzled the back of his concubine’s head. “-I much prefer this.”

 

“Well, it is a day of celebration. Perhaps his majesty will understand if you are the slightest bit late. He may even find himself so wrapped up that he fails to notice your absence.”

 

“Quite frankly, I think he’d find it a relief,” Jisung frowned.

 

“A relief?” The concubine took a few moments to think on the words. “You’re still at an impasse regarding the Baes?”

 

“So it seems. Sometimes I feel as if I get through to him, others he stands so- so stubborn. So resolute. So... unlike himself.”

 

“His majesty will do what he thinks best for his people. He always has.”

 

“Yes, he always has, but… Well…” Jisung hugged Sungwoon more tightly. “He’s been different.”

 

The concubine pursed his lips, “How so?”

 

“Hm… More clipped. Less patient. Not just toward me, either. I feel like ever since returning from that hunting trip, something’s gotten under his skin. I- I haven’t the slightest clue.”

 

Sungwoon snorted.

 

“What about that is so funny to you?” The advisor asked, jabbing a finger in the other’s side. 

  
The concubine flinched at the ticklish sensation but answered nonetheless, “You said that ‘something’ has gotten under his majesty’s skin. Has it not occurred to you that ‘something’ could be ‘someone’?”

 

“He-” Jisung paused for a moment. “He does seem to harbor an affinity for the man…” 

 

Sungwoon turned onto his other side to face his lover; he grinned at the sight of his husband, hair mussed, eyes still half-lidded with sleepiness. The concubine reached a hand up to caress the other’s face idly as they spoke.

 

“I believe that Daniel will ultimately do what he thinks best for our kingdom. Perhaps he is trying on this new suit of pride, inspired by the one he admires. Despite that, I believe he will still think about what is important in making his decisions. It will balance out.”

 

“You speak so confidently. What makes you so sure? Has Seongwoo told you anything?”

 

“Not explicitly. Never explicitly. It is not as if he actively encourages Daniel’s stubbornness, but… I suppose you could say I see them becoming like one another.”

 

“Like one another? I know nothing of his majesty’s ward, in truth. Are you saying this prideful act is his influence?”

 

“Precisely. It appears that, whether consciously or not, our King has acquired some of Seongwoo’s rigid single-mindedness,” The concubine chuckled. “Though you don’t see it, Seongwoo himself has become more… Open. A bit more yielding and willing to compromise.”

 

“Interesting,” Jisung mused. He looked Sungwoon up and down before speaking again, “It begs the question: how have we influenced one another?”

 

“Well,” The concubine looked up thoughtfully, “I imagine that, since meeting you, I have slowly become a more and more irritating person to be around.” He joked.

 

Jisung smiled and looked away, “Funny that. I was wondering just days ago if I’d shrunk a tad. Must be your effect.”

 

“How  _ dare _ you,” Sungwoon looked as if he was between contemplating murder and laughter.

 

“I believe I’ve made rather an impressive impact on your life, though,” The advisor continued.

 

“Oh? Have you? Pray tell  _ how _ .”

 

Jisung leaned in, “You know when I met you, you were an absolutely dreadful kisser.”

 

“I- I was a virginal farm boy!” Sungwoon pouted.

 

“You certainly aren’t anymore,” Jisung chuckled before pressing his lips against his husband’s. In spite of his facetious offense, Sungwoon returned the kiss in earnest. 

 

As the advisor had said: he and his concubine had become well acquainted with one another’s kiss over time. Sungwoon lapped at Jisung’s lips gently, dipping his tongue between them. The advisor sighed happily at the gesture. The hand he’d had wrapped around the other’s waist dipped lower. He contentedly let his hands roam as they pleased.

 

Another thing Sungwoon loved about mornings: the ease of them. No urgency pressured them, and they felt no inclination to rush anything. They moved slowly, almost lazily, tracing and retracing the sensation of the other’s lips on their own. It felt familiar, and something about the security of it comforted the concubine immensely. Things changed around them, but Jisung’s lips always felt the same. They were soft and warm, pliant against the other’s. When Sungwoon sucked on one, Jisung let out a contented sigh; just like he always did.

 

Upon separating, the advisor brought one of his hands up to caress the other’s face, “You’re right.”

 

“Hm?” Sungwoon asked. He piqued an eyebrow, “I’m always right, but about what in particular this time?”

 

Jisung chuckled; he smiled fondly at his love, “You were right about the King. I believe he will do what is best, even if he must take time to have a fit.”

 

“And what makes you think I should need to hear this now?”

 

“Because, with my renewed confidence I’ve come to a conclusion.”

 

“A conclusion?”

 

Jisung pecked Sungwoon on the lips, “The conclusion that his majesty can afford my absence on this fine morning.”

 

“Really? And what precisely would cause your absence?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps, as I’d said before, a terrible sickness…” The advisor nuzzled his husband, “Or maybe a particularly needy concubine.”

 

“Needy?” Sungwoon chuckled. He pressed a chaste kiss onto Jisung’s lips before continuing, “We shall see which one of us is the needy one when I’m through with you.” When the concubine’s dove back toward the other, they did so with newfound roughness. 

 

Jisung let out a gasp, the first of many that would echo off the walls that morning.

 

* * *

 

“You should talk to him,” Woojin said between bites of roasted goose leg.

 

“Wh- To whom?!” Jaehwan nearly choked on the piece of bread he’d shoved into his mouth seconds prior.

 

“That man playing that lute who you’ve been eyeing the past day and a half.”

 

“What man with a lute. I don’t see a man with a lute,” The court singer’s eye drifted slightly toward a young man in the distance. He stood tall and slender with a serene expression on his face. His fingers moved with swift ease, strumming out an upbeat yet calming tune. 

  
Woojin and Jaehwan had finished their morning performance shortly before. They’d walked the stalls until settling on fire-roasted goose for their afternoon meal. A performer from somewhere far off had happened to settle not far, and Jaehwan had quickly taken notice.

 

“Yes, you do. You just looked at him!”

 

“I did not!”   
  


“You did too- look! You’re doing it again!”

 

“No ‘m not!” Jaehwan appeared to believe that stuffing more bread into his mouth would change reality. 

 

“S-stop it! Stop- put that bread down!” The dancer swatted the hard roll out of the other’s hand. “Jaehwan you’re never scared of anything. What makes you so fearful now? Talk to him!”

 

“I am not afraid. He’s- he is clearly preoccupied. How rude of me would it be to interrupt his playing?” As if on cue, the man ceased strumming. The small crowd of people who’d taken a perch to listen to him applauded. Woojin looked at Jaehwan with raised eyebrows.

 

The singer rolled his eyes before speaking, “Alright, fine. I shall… I shall prove to you that I am not afraid. Just you watch!” Triumphantly, the man strode onward. 

 

People cleared out, ready to be distracted by the next most exciting thing they were to come across. The lute player began gathering his affairs, and the Castle Jeon performer took the opportunity to talk to the man. 

 

Jaehwan approached the slender man who’d just finished playing. A few moments passed before the man noticed anything. When he did, he gave a small grin to the man in front of him.

 

“Oh, apologies. I hadn’t seen you there. Can I help you with something?”

 

With confidence, Jaehwan opened his mouth. He looked the man in the eyes and began to say something.

 

A choking noise came out.

 

The lutist raised his eyebrows inquisitively. Jaehwan could only respond with a mere squeak.

 

Woojin watched on in fascination. He eagerly chomped away at his goose leg, enthralled in the sight before him. The loudest man he’d ever known had been rendered speechless.

 

Jaehwan, after a few more pitiful noises, turned on his heel. Without saying a single word, he turned on his heel and trotted off. The lutist tilted his head, and his face knit into a look of confusion.

 

“M-my name is Sewoon,” The man called after Jaehwan’s fleeing form. Woojin thought it incredibly endearing that he attempted courtesy despite how unhinged the other looked. “It was nice to meet you!”

 

Jaehwan’s face remained fix in a deliriously friendly expression until he reached Woojin.

 

“What, um… What, precisely, was I supposed to be watching?” The dancer asked with a smirk.

 

“I- I-” Jaehwan huffed in defeat and looked at the other indignantly. “Stop giving me that look.”

 

“Apologies, apologies, ought I give you this sort of look,” The dancer imitated the singer’s floundering lips.

 

“I- I will! Just when… When the timing is right.”

 

“Hm,” Woojin waved his goose leg around idly as he thought, “I believe I know how to assure the timing is just proper.”

 

“Oh? What makes you so sure.”

 

The dancer pointed in the distance, “I happen to know that a particularly excellent meadery has set up a stall in that direction.”

 

“Mead, you say?” Jaehwan quirked an eyebrow in interest.

 

* * *

 

Loud brass fanfare rang out across the vast clearing set aside for sport. People surrounded the field, crowding the wooden fences that had been erected. Front and center, a covered seating structure had been constructed, and in it sat the highest nobility. 

 

King Daniel looked out stoically onto the field. He looked grand as ever in his rich red coordinate, festooned with jeweled necklaces and topped with his gold crown. Queen Irene, on the contrary, had dressed in cool tones. Next to him, she looked distinctly opposite in her light blue brocade and delicate diamond jewelry. Beside the Queen sat the two princes: Daehwi and Jinyoung. Next to the King and just slightly behind him was his concubine, Seongwoo. He nearly blended into the background with his relatively plain maroon coordinate.

 

Ong badly wished he could talk to Daniel. He had so many questions and comments to pose. None were particularly pressing, but he merely craved the casual interaction. It made him feel almost shameful to yearn for such simplicity while standing less than a pace away. Instead, the man merely pouted internally, hoping for at least a speck of attention in the next hour.

 

As he idly watched the crowd, his eyes caught two familiar figures pressed against the wooden barriers nearby: Guanlin and Seonho. Even from far away, Seongwoo could feel the immense excitement radiating off of Guanlin. Surely, Ong thought, the boy was chattering excitedly about his Master and how he’d no doubt triumph in sport. 

  
The booming voice of a herald cut through the man’s thoughts, announcing, “Welcome all to the Harvest Festival’s annual jousting tournament! Our Lord has blessed us today with a most splendid day for sport, and we shall thank him for his blessings in the engagement of this noble tournament. Before our athletes come out, let us bow our head in prayer.” The crowd obliged, nobles included. A modestly dressed bishop approached the herald’s side and extended his hand toward the crowd. He delivered an unremarkable prayer that Seongwoo hardly recalled. Before he knew it, the herald had taken up speaking once more, and he hesitated no longer to advance festivities.

 

“For our first match, the knights of Castle Jeon and Urcapitis shall joust!” Spectators cheered at the mere talk of the match. When the initial wave of noise had died slightly, the herald continued, “Representing King Daniel and Castle Jeon itself is the triumphant General Park Jihoon!”

 

The crowd roared as the beloved favorite, General Park, regarded them. The warlord looked on stoically as ever, giving a polite nod. Jihoon looked small in the bulky armor that he wore. Attached to one of the pauldrons was a small shield with a blue dog painted on it. Seongwoo felt bile rise in his throat at the sight of the man. The last time he’d seen the general, the man could hardly walk. A wave of guilt and dread washed over him as he recalled the miserable night. 

 

Another young gentleman, likely near General Park in age, sat atop a dapple gray. He ambled toward the center of his side, nodding to the crowd.

 

“From the distinguished old capital, Urcapitis, the honorable Lord Joo Haknyeon.” The crowd cheered enthusiastically. Seongwoo hadn’t expected much for the supposed underdog, but apparently, the other man had been fairly well liked. It suddenly occurred to him that life existed outside Castle Jeon for the people of the Kingdom. It had become so easy for him to forget. Upon further reflection, he realized that the majority of people would likely identify more with the young Lord than the decorated General. 

 

“The rules are of the Rennen discipline! The knight who dislodges the other’s shield as seen on the pauldron shall be awarded three points for the run! Shattering the opponent’s weapon yields seven points, and dismounting the other shall award ten!” The herald marches away from the tilt. He turns back toward the two who’d been cantering across their respective sides of the tilt. “Gentleman, ready!”

 

The two galloped to opposite sides; Jihoon directed his majestic bay horse to the far left, and his opponent, Haknyeon, did the same. Attendants that had been standing aside handed each jouster the remainder of their equipment. First: large helmets. The bulky things had mere slats for vision, and they sat atop the knights’ shoulders in such a way that they looked liable to teeter off from movement alone. Next, each was handed a massive polearm. Each one looked twice the size of the man wielding it, though Lord Joo’s looked larger than General Park’s (per personal preference, most likely). General Park’s polearm looked simple: long and conic, constructed of silver. Though it did not shine nor did jewels embed it, the light managed to catch fine, finicky engravings which gave it a subtle sophistication. Lord Joo’s lance, contrarily, had an array of vivid coloring striped down the pole.

 

“Arms up!” The herald yelled.

 

Each man lifted their lances upright. Even the mere motion of holding them straight made the sharp tips wobble. Seongwoo estimated that each weighed as much as a small child. 

 

“Ready!”

 

The knights adjusted their posture and gripped their reins more tightly. Awed silence fell over the crowd, and everyone watched on in anticipation. Eyes all focused intently, and a collective breath was held tightly in the lungs of all onlookers. Even Seongwoo, discontented as he was, could not help but feel trapped with enticement at the sight. Though he disliked acknowledging it, he’d always regarded General Park with a certain degree of esteem. He despised the man but could not deny his skills. Despite that fact, suddenly, doubt brewed beneath his ribcage. The tiniest trickle of suspense ran through him, and he thought: is General Park truly as masterly in the combat arts as they say? As he had led himself to believe? For a brief instant, he entertained the notion that, perhaps, the fearsome adversary of Park Jihoon was not so fearsome at all. Seongwoo wondered if, in fact, he’d deceived himself into being afraid of the man’s power. Should a common lord dismount him, he knew that he’d feel a fool for holding the man on a pedestal of perceived ferociousness.

 

“Charge!” The herald’s voice took Seongwoo by surprise, and his eyes shot to the tilt. 

 

Rushing hooves sounded out loudly across the field, and the crowd quickly took to yelling at the two. The gap between each knight closed rapidly as the horses bounded in their directions. Ong bit down on his lip, breath bated in anticipation. He leaned forward as much as socially acceptable in the formal setting, eyes fixed to Jihoon’s armor-clad form. 

 

“ _ Claack _ !” 

 

The loud sound of metal on metal echoed across the clearing. 

 

Everything happened so quickly, Seongwoo could hardly process what had occurred in front of him. By the time he had digested it, Jihoon had already slowed his horse down at the opposite end of the run. The concubine’s eyes darted from one jouster to the other. Both still bore the large shields that had been fixed to their armor, and both still held lances. However, upon further inspection, Seongwoo realized: Jihoon’s lance had broken. The General threw down the splintered polearm violently. Even with a thick layer of metal covering him, the man appeared clearly galled. One of the attendants scuttled toward the General, a new lance bobbing dangerously in his hands. He extended it toward General Park, and the warlord snatched it up quickly.

 

“Seven points to Lord Joo of Urcapitis!” The herald hollered. A series of cheers and whistles followed, along with a few pointed comments yelled toward General Park. 

  
Seongwoo glanced at King Daniel to gauge his reaction. Daniel watched on intently. His face appeared cool, but the slight pouting of his lips betrayed his dismay at the result of the first pass. Queen Irene looked content; the expression on her face was one of superficial interest. In contrast, Advisor Yoon readily wore his criticism on his face with a scrunched expression of confusion. Prince Jinyoung and Prince Daehwi leaned toward one another, whispering. Though Seongwoo found himself rather curious as to what they spoke about, more than that: he felt envious. He wished he could lean over and whisper to Daniel to have a conversation. Instead, the concubine stood back obediently.

 

“Arms up for next pass!” 

 

Once again, each knight adjusted their stance. Jihoon sat up straighter than he had before. Despite the heavy armor over his body, Seongwoo could feel the determination radiating off of him. Perhaps the man had gone easily for the first pass.

 

Now, he was mad.

 

“Ready!” The herald yelled. Once again, the crowd quieted in anticipation. All eyes watched excitedly.

 

“Charge!”

 

Once again, everything happened incredibly fast. The beating of hooves against the ground, the bobbing of bodies, and the shuffling of metal against metal sounded out. 

 

“ _ Claaaaaack _ !”

 

Another loud, metallic noise.

 

“Three points to Lord Joo of Urcapitis! This gives him ten points in total!”

 

A few people gasped at the sight, Seongwoo included. With wide eyes, he watched General Park’s shield careen to the ground. It hit the dirt with a loud clatter as he slowed his horse down at the other end of the tilt. The concubine’s jaw dropped before he could stop it from doing so. He quickly tried to rationalize it: jousting was different than combat. It was likely that the General was out of practice. Perhaps he wasn’t as practiced on polearms. Out of the corner of his eye, Seongwoo saw Daniel grip the arm of his seat more tightly. The edges of the King’s lips turned downward. He wondered what the man was thinking. Did he worry for the Kingdom’s reputation? After all, one of their prized Generals being knocked down by a mere Lord would be humiliating. What would that say about the Kang military? Or perhaps he worried for Jihoon’s wellbeing? Though Ong wished he could delude himself into thinking it a King’s concern for a subject, he was aware that the two were close. He despised it. 

 

After Jihoon had his shield fixed to his armor again, the jousters readied themselves for the third and last pass. 

 

“Arms up!” The herald yelled. Hundreds of eyes ogled the spectacle. In a matter of seconds, a winner would be crowned; and, with the victory, a Kingdom’s pride could be shattered or reinforced. Only time would tell which it would be.

 

“Ready!”

 

“...Jihoon…” Daniel muttered to himself. Seongwoo’s eyes darted to the man next to him who teetered on the edge of his seat. In spite of all logic and reason, jealousy shot through him like an arrow. He resented that General Park Jihoon was given the grace of the King’s public support. It made the concubine wish to retreat further back into the shadows.

 

“Charge!”

 

An eruption of yelling ensued the moment the horses began racing toward one another. Seongwoo tensed up, eyes locked on the armored bodies bouncing atop their horses. He felt torn: part of him wished to see General Park knocked on his ass, the other rooted for the man’s victory. The two grew closer and closer. Just one touch, Seongwoo thought, and it would all be over. General Park Jihoon would be disgraced and perhaps the entire Kingdom because of it. Just one instant of contact, and...

 

“ _ Claaack _ !” “ _ Thud _ !!”

 

Daniel gasped loudly.

 

Queen Irene’s hand shot to cover her mouth which had dropped open. The two Princes, who had been immersed in conversation, immediately halted. Seongwoo’s eyes widened.

 

Lying limply on the ground was the armored form of Lord Joo Haknyeon. Attendants quickly ran to him to check his condition. 

 

“General Park Jihoon has dismounted Lord Joo Haknyeon, netting him eleven points,” The herald announced, “The joust goes to General Park Jihoon!” After letting the momentary shock process, the crowd roared. General Park removed his helmet, turning his horse so he could face the people. He wore a bright smile and his eyes twinkled as he beamed at the people. The young warlord looked completely and utterly untroubled; his appeared as if the whole sport had been a mere trifle. Seongwoo began to suspect that the man had merely failed the first two passes for show. At the very least, he felt validated in his wariness of the man.

 

King Daniel and the other nobles stood up and clapped for the victorious Castle Jeon representative. General Park turned toward his majesty, giving an enthusiastic wave. When the King waved back in earnest, Seongwoo had to suppress a desire to roll his eyes. He’d grown tired of court etiquette and politeness. Soon, he told himself, all of this nonsense would be over. Though he liked being by Daniel’s side, there were many parts of it he would not miss. 

 

The concubine let his eyes wander, unimpressed with Jihoon’s charming theatrics. The Princes had reignited their conversation and looked ready to leap out of their chairs. Queen Irene prattled on; something generic and congratulatory. She hardly seemed to be attempting to act interested, and, for the first time, Seongwoo sympathized with the woman. He looked to the crowd again, watching people file in and out. The next joust would start in a short duration, and people already shuffled about in hopes to get a better vantage point. Among those shuffling about were two young boys, one of whom wore a familiar collar.

  
Seongwoo wanted to run to Guanlin before the boy got out of sight. Since their uncomfortable run-in days prior, he hadn’t seen the boy. He’d been so busy with preparations, he hadn’t had the chance to approach him properly. Upon the few occasions Seongwoo had tried to speak to Guanlin, the boy skirted away with eyes downcast. The concubine glanced at his majesty who, thankfully, had not been speaking to Irene at that moment. He tapped the King on the shoulder politely and leaned forward.

 

“Master,” Seongwoo said in a low voice.

  
Daniel eagerly turned to face the other, “Yes, Seongwoo?” He asked. The ruler looked hopeful as if his concubine was about to offer him some sort of escape from formal mundanity. Unfortunately for both of them, Seongwoo did not have the power to do so at that particular moment. Still, the concubine gave his Master an affectionate smile. He prayed that the small gesture could provide at least a slight sliver of relief to the other.

 

“May I please dismiss myself?”

 

The King’s shoulders sagged slightly, but he nodded, “Yes, you may.” The man leaned in closer, whispering, “I do hope you have some fun today. At least one of us ought to.”

 

“Thank you,” Seongwoo said with a chuckle. He spoke more lowly before parting, “Perhaps you ought to turn in to bed early tonight. I am sure you will be most tired after the day’s activities.”

 

“Exhausted, probably,” Daniel replied, his lips tilting up at the edges. 

 

“Then I shall see you then,” With that, the concubine gave a respectful bow. He bid his farewells politely to the other nobility present before excusing himself. 

 

Seongwoo’s feet moved rushedly as he descended the steps of the nobles’ platform. He hastily weaved through the crowd, hoping to find the young chick and his musician friend ambling about. Thankfully, Guanlin was rather tall for his age. A raven-haired head cropped up above the rest of the people roaming about, and Seongwoo bounded toward it.

 

“Guanlin!” Seongwoo called to the young chick concubine. The boy turned toward the sound of his name; however, upon seeing who’d called him, his pupils skittered away awkwardly. He scurried off with a frown on his face, deliberately weaving between people until he disappeared. Seonho, oblivious, followed at his heels. “Guanlin?”

 

Worry rooted Seongwoo in place, and he felt powerless to do anything other than gape. Dreadful visions of the last time he’d seen Guanlin, of his encounter with Jihoon, flashed through his head. The mere idea of General Park pressing those wine-stained lips against his own irked him to his core. He wondered if Daniel had any inkling of just how mad he’d driven Jihoon. Upon further thought, Seongwoo realized that Daniel likely had little hand in it. Some are predisposed in such a way, much to their own misfortune. He thought that experience combined with his natural temperament had likely shaped the General into his current discombobulated self. Tortured past or not, the man’s actions had ultimately driven a wedge between Seongwoo and Guanlin. That fact tormented Seongwoo greatly.

 

The concubine frowned, sighing inwardly. He decided to wait for awhile. Perhaps all the chick needed was space.

 

He hoped that was the case.

 

* * *

 

Wind rustled blades of grass and tree branches loudly. Sunlight stamped small patterns of light between the overlapping leaves of the trees above. Clomping hooves sounded out softly in the wooded area; a horse guided by two people who had briefly decided to opt out of the festivities.

 

“We are almost there,” Prince Lee Daehwi said, turning to his fellow deserter with a grin. He held the reins of the horse he’d apprehended firmly in one hand, guiding the steed toward a clearing in the woods. Though apprehensive at first, Daehwi’s partner in crime had quickly thawed, and the two became fast friends.

 

Prince Bae Jinyoung replied, “Oh- Is it that, over there?”

 

Daehwi nodded, “Yes! There it is.” He grinned, leading the other Prince and the horse down the well walked trail toward their destination.

 

The heavy woods gave way to a grassy clearing. Despite the wild nature of the greenery surrounding it, the small area had been tended to meticulously.  Manicured flower beds surrounded the focal point at the center of the space: a beautifully built mausoleum.

 

Jinyoung tilted his head, taking in the details of the small building no doubt. Much like the space around it, the mausoleum had been thoughtfully crafted. An opulently carved cross topped a domed ceiling, held up by Corinthian columns. Atop the arched entrance sat an angel. The entire structure had been constructed out of a pristine white marble, and it gleamed in the morning sun.

 

“You go in, and I shall arrange things out here,” Jinyoung said.

 

Prince Daehwi nodded and gave the other a grateful smile. He took a wrapped bundle from the satchel affixed to the white horse’s saddle. Approaching the steps, the Kang Kingdom Prince muttered a prayer to himself. When he felt ready, he ascended them, entering the small building.

 

Even the sound of the wind ceased inside the structure. Only the noise of his steps, which ricocheted off the stone walls, could be heard. Just as the outside had been, the interior spared no attention to detail. Beautiful floral carvings spanned the wall’s panels, framing stone slabs with sacred passages or even carved visages of the person inside. In the middle of the structure stood the focal point: a massive stone tomb. It’s elegance topped even that of the interior, with gold trimming encasing a rainbow of gems. Daehwi sighed. With a bittersweet smile, he approached the tomb and let his hand lay rest upon it.

 

“You look beautiful as ever, Somi,” He said. His fingers idly traced the finicky carved flourishes atop the heavy tomb.

 

“It’s festival time again, can you believe it?” The Prince spoke to the empty mausoleum. He untied the knot that kept the parcel he held confined. Out from the carefully wrapped paper burst a bouquet of flowers. He laid them atop the stone structure before continuing, “Everyone is so happy. It’s been quite triumph - at least, so far. What do you think?”

 

He knew no response would come, yet it never stopped him from asking her - from really speaking to his cousin. The Harvest Festival had always been one of Somi’s favorite events. She loved everything about it: from the planning to the sports. Daehwi had thought the two would have many festivals to spend with one another. He’d even imagined years into the future; each would be married and have children of their own running around the Harvest Festival, causing chaos as they once had.

  
Unfortunately, reality had different plans.

 

Daehwi felt it unfathomable to go a festival without spending time with his cousin. So, he did. Dead or alive, his highness cared little. He clung to the time spent with a person who’d been his best friend. 

 

When he’d told Prince Jinyoung in honesty where he’d been headed that afternoon, he thought the boy would have been put off. The fact that he hadn’t been, that he even accepted the invitation to accompany him, spoke volumes to his character. The Prince smiled melancholically. 

 

“Do you like Prince Jinyoung?” He inquired. The subject of love was just the type of the two would have spoken about had she been there alive. Daehwi could picture her poking his sides and needling him for details on his new friend. “He’s quite exceptional, really. Quiet, but kind, and very respectful. Still, he has a tricky streak to him, too. I think… I think you’d like him very much. He even agreed to come here, you know.”

 

His highness lapsed into silence for a few minutes. He leaned onto the tomb itself, laying his head on his arms atop it. 

 

“Daniel? He’s doing alright, I suppose… He, um, he struggles a bit, doesn’t he? Not like you. You always commanded with authority, but our cousin… Well, it matters not. Oh- And the Queen! Queen Irene! Yes, she is stunning! I think you’d like her very much as well. The Baes are quite kind. It’s a wonder we had never met them before. Really, I think you’d like them very much,” He chuckled.

 

A few more minutes passed by in silence. Daehwi remained still, letting the quiet envelop him. The Harvest Festival had brought on an entire slew of diplomatic and social duties, and he’d been exhausted by them a mere day in. Though the atmosphere had a grimness to it, he felt immensely content in the quiet of the grave. After a while, he roused himself to rise, to face the outside world once more.

 

Running his fingers over the tomb once more, Daehwi spoke, “Thank you, Somi. It’s always a pleasure to visit,” He gave the tomb a quick kiss, bidding his cousin farewell. Silently, the Prince gave a prayer before his exit.

 

The world beyond the tomb felt starkly different. It was as if mother nature’s orchestra had picked up their instruments once more. Birds chirped and leaves blew; blades of grass danced in the breeze. 

 

Jinyoung had set up the other things the two had brought: a picnic. An exotic woven blanket laid on the ground, and on top of it a veritable feast of finger foods sat. Sweetmeats, loaves of bread, cured meats, tartlets, little pies, and everything else that had captured their fancies at the stalls had been packed. Prince Jinyoung gave Daehwi a warm smile, extending a freshly poured glass of bubbling wine - Somi’s favorite.

 

Daehwi returned the other with a sincere grin, “Thank you!” He said, taking a seat on the blanket.

 

“My pleasure,” Jinyoung replied. He eyed the mausoleum again, “Are you positive you feel comfortable dining here? Is- is this customary here? It is most unusual.”

 

Daehwi chuckled, “It is not common practice, but…” He eyed the marble structure wistfully, “She was never one for stuffy formality, though she always upheld traditions. She would have liked it this way, casual visits from close people enjoying themselves. It’s much more her style than arranged visitations with an army of priests and people crying.”

 

“She sounds wonderful.”

 

“She is. Was.”

 

“Well, on that note,” Jinyoung lifted his glass, “To Somi?”

 

“Hm…” Daehwi’s grin took on a mischievous manner, “Yes, to Somi, but also… To new bonds.”

 

The Bae Prince nodded, echoing, “To new bonds,” and their glasses clinked against one another. The two chatted the afternoon away, mindful to keep one spot of the blanket open.

 

* * *

 

Tendrils of melted cheese ran from the tartlet in Countess Kim Yerim’s hand to her lips. She snapped her mouth open and closed in an attempt to catch the stray strings, but unfortunately, it caused quite the undignified mess. Her new companion, Lady Park Joy, tittered at the spectacle.

 

“Oh- You’ve got some on your face,” Joy said with a giggle.

  
“Wh- Oh, right- right here?” Yeri’s hand shot to her chin.

 

“No, not- Here, let me get it,” The older girl reached her hand beneath the neckline of her red gown. She withdrew a daintily embroidered kerchief, patting the other’s lips daintily. Yeri froze up momentarily, and heat crept across her cheeks. “That’s better,” Joy said, punctuating the statement with a gleaming grin.

 

“Thank you,” Yeri’s response came out more breathily than she’d intended. The two linked arms and continued strolling as they took in the festival sights.

 

Ever since meeting, Yeri and Joy had been inseparable save for Joy’s formal engagements. Yeri had eagerly offered the lady-in-waiting a tour of Castle Jeon. When that had been through the previous day, they took to the festival. They’d spent the previous day eating, drinking, and dancing; their second festival day had been shaping up similarly. Yeri shoved the remainder of her tartlet into her mouth as the two walked along with no aim in particular.

 

Joy linked a free arm with Yeri’s and heaved a sigh, “I can’t believe we will have to leave so soon.” She pouted. “Three days is far too short for a festival.”

 

“You’re all leaving after the festival?” Yeri felt her heart drop, but she tried to maintain her cheery exterior, “I mean, why not stay at least a few more days? Is the castle not to your liking?”

 

“Well, it’s hardly my decision. I quite like this recess from mundanity. Unfortunately, her majesty is rather eager to return to the palace,” Joy replied. “I suppose I can hardly blame her. She  _ is _ a queen; it is her duty.

 

“She truly intends on leaving with such haste? How serious.”

 

“Yes, Queen Irene is very dedicated to our Kingdom, but don’t think her too stuffy. She certainly knows how to have a good time.”

 

“Glad to hear! It’d be a drag following around a boring woman, that is certain. Hm… It makes me wonder about King Daniel. It’s a bit different, you know. He doesn’t have any ladies in waiting. Or men. Perhaps a valet, and- oh! A concubine, of course!”

 

“Yes, Seong- Seong…”

 

“Seongwoo!”

 

“That gentleman! Only the finest for his majesty,” Joy tittered, “We don’t keep such a tradition in our Kingdom. What is it like? Having all of those… Types of workers wandering around? I personally think it’s rather interesting, but...”

 

“But what?” Yeri quirked an eyebrow in interest.

 

“Not everyone shares my views.”

  
“Oh, I see. I can’t imagine a life without them around. My papa even had one for a time. He was quite kind and occasionally played with me as a child.”

 

“A conc- What? With the children?!” Joy looked scandalized, her eyes and mouth wide open.

 

“They are a cultural tradition here. Of course, at the time I merely thought him a private singer or something.”

 

“You did  _ not _ .”

 

“It provided a very convenient excuse for some of the noises I heard.”

 

“Yeri!” Joy smacked the other’s shoulder with a guffaw. “That sounds absolutely awful.”

 

“I grew quite accustomed to it rather early in life. Most of us have, I don’t know anyone who’s parents hadn’t had at least one.”

 

“At  _ least _ ?”

 

“It’s just… We are different. Concubines have been a part of life as long as we can all remember. Seems strange to imagine a world without them. Like yours, apparently! Haven’t you got any strange traditions?”

 

“Nothing quite along those lines. Though there is an old traditional punishment we have for treason!”

 

“A traditional punishment?”

 

“Yes! Traitors of the state are brought to the middle of court - we have a beautiful mosaic tile depiction of a compass in the floor - they stand on the compass. In the middle! Then a knight stands on each point of the poles and shoots an arrow simultaneously in their head!”

 

“Oh, that is quite… Different.”

 

“It is quite the spectacle.”

 

“How often have you witnessed this?” An expression of befuddlement fell over Yeri’s features as the two strolled past noisy stalls and entertainers. 

 

“At least one every few months. Quite a few more of late- we think it is due to Prince Jinyoung coming of age.”

 

“Acts of treason every few  _ months _ ?”

 

“Is that not common? These are rather challenging times we are in.”

 

“Well, I suppose people commit heinous acts every day, but we do not see them executed publicly often. From what I have heard, many things happen unbeknownst to even the noble folk. It makes me wonder if things are often settled covertly.”

 

“How curious.”

 

“I agree!” Yeri grinned, “Most other nobles are more concerned with economics or material wealth than intrigue or tactics. While I love jewels, I cannot help but wonder how things are truly run.”

 

“It is curious how this Kingdom does things. Clearly, you lot are very different. I feel that my home country is much more… Forthright in its laws. Queen Irene does not entertain criminals or terrorists. She deals with them swiftly and decisively.” The Kang countess could not hold back the snort she let out, and it did not get left unnoticed by the other. “What about that is so funny?”

 

“No- Nothing at all!” Yeri covered her mouth, “It’s just, well… His majesty King Daniel is quite the opposite. I am unsure if he has ever done anything swiftly or decisively in his life.” She gasped at her own admission. “I- But- I truly do not mean anything ill of it! He is just a very thoughtful ruler. He takes time to consider all sides before coming to a large decision about anything. We are quite blessed to have him.”

 

“I understand that you mean no offense to him. I cannot say I envy you, though. Of course, I am biased, but I adore Queen Irene. She tolerates no injustice under her rule.”

 

“I’d like to think we’ve done well for ourselves here as well.”

 

“Quite! If this festival is any indicator, you live in a Kingdom rich with diversity. That applies both to your people and your trade.”

 

“And the Baes seem to have specialized quite well in their own areas. Funny that - how different our Kingdoms are.”

 

“Yet we have been brought together. Blessed be.”

 

“Blessed indeed!”

 

Suddenly, a bellowing voice rose above the generalized din,“Hello, hello! Hello, hello! Tell me what you want right now!”

  
The two noble girls exchanged surprised looks, and their heads shot to the source of the noise. A towering man with broad shoulders and an elaborate costume hollered across the clearing. A small tribe of young women quickly gathered around him.

 

“Is that one of the actors from one of those big groups?” Joy asked, eyeing the crowd dubiously.

 

“I believe so. Can’t say I can identify what causes such a stir, but I heard,” Yeri grinned, “That their fan following has quite the epic feud. Fans of some other group are their nemesis, apparently. People even say that there had been a riot yesterday because of it.”

 

“A riot?” Joy laughed, “Over mere men?”

 

“Oh, yes, full on brawl was what I’d heard. Pity I missed it,” Yeri pouted.

 

“What caused the altercation?”

 

“I- Well, I haven’t the slightest. People say mere proximity of opposing fans apparently escalates things quickly.”

 

“If proximity is truly all that is required, then…” Joy trailed off and looked up in thought.

 

“Then what?”

 

“Then I believe that, in theory, it would not be terribly difficult for you to get your riot,” The older girl quirked an eyebrow, and a naughty grin crossed her lips. 

 

* * *

 

“How’re you feeling now?” Woojin slurred. He tipped the pewter mug he’d filled with ale to his lips. Little had remained at the bottom of the tankard; the majority of what did miss his mouth, running down his chin. 

 

“I don’t…” Jaehwan glanced at the bottle of mead he’d been holding. Woojin had, in fact, escorted him to the mead stall, and the two had sampled a fine array of the fermented drink. The singer had even fancied one particular variety and picked up a bottle for the steal of two silver pieces. After the mead stall, they’d found an ale maker’s tent. Then a wine crafter’s. In spite of the massive variety of wares being presented across the festival bazaar, the two had managed to find themselves only at the ones selling some form of alcohol.

 

“I don’t feel much anythin’ at all,” Jaehwan finally finished his thought.

 

“Thas’ good! That is great, because I think I see our fellow comrade in the trade-” Woojin pointed across one of the garden clearings, beyond a fountain. “-right over there.”

 

Jaehwan’s bleary gaze sluggishly followed Woojin’s finger until it fell upon the lutist, Sewoon. The slender man looked as peaceful as ever, his lips upturned in a calm smile. In his hands, he held a book which appeared to occupy the majority of his attention. 

 

“Wow,” In his weakened state, Jaehwan made no effort to cover his genuine thoughts, “Isn’t he lovely?”

 

Woojin nodded in ardent agreement, “Mm- Yes. Lovely, him. I bet you can talk to him now, right?”

 

“Talk to him?” The singer scoffed, “I shall sing him a most beautiful piece from my repertoire. Something moving and soft, just like his visage.”

 

“Poetry,” The dancer added, as if the word alone explained his muddled thoughts completely.

 

“Where is my guitar- Oh, I haven’t got my guitar, have I?”

 

“No you haven’t- but that’s alright! You have a beautiful voice,” Woojin seized Jaehwan by the shoulders. “Now you must let your voice fly forward into the sky you- you beautiful graceful turtledove you.”

 

Jaehwan gasped with a smile, “I  _ am _ a turtledove.” With his excited proclamation, he began lumbering forward. More than a few people had to dip and duck around his clumsy intrusion into the flow of traffic. Still, the court performer plowed through them in a determinedly uncaring manner.

 

Woojin grinned, drunkenness tripling his state of elation at his friend’s courageousness. He figured that there were two possible outcomes to the unfolding situation. The first: Jaehwan actually triumphed in wooing the lutist in some sort of miraculous scenario. The second (and much more likely in Woojin’s opinion): Jaehwan would make perhaps the largest ass of himself one possibly could in such a public setting. Woojin fancied the image of Jaehwan getting smacked, though a swift kick would be equally as entertaining, he decided.

 

However, one possibility hadn’t occurred to the dancer, and, astoundingly enough, it was the very one that proceeded to happen.

 

“ _ Splaaash _ !”

 

The dancer’s eyebrows raised and his eyes widened in shock. A small commotion quickly erupted toward the far end of the fountain. Woojin rushed over to see what had caused the fuss.

 

“Jaehwan?” The dancer asked as he approached a familiar figure. With a dreamy expression on his face, one very drunk court musician bobbed in the basin of the fountain.

 

“Woojin! Is that you! Why- I was just on the way to see that lovely man and then- and then- well… I don’t know what happened. What’s happened, Woojin? Why are all of these people staring?”

 

Woojin snorted. Though the weather had warmed up considerably, the water of the fountain still felt icy cold as the dancer stepped in. He tried to ignore the shock of frigid daggers pricking at the skin of his ankles he took hold of his friend’s arm.

 

“Up,” The dancer demanded. With a considerable amount of effort, the two managed to get the drunker of them back onto his feet. Torrents of water ran down the man’s neck and dripped off of his clothes. Woojin sighed, “I suppose we ought to get you out of these things. Idiot.”

 

“Wh- Where did he go?” Jaehwan muttered, his head darting around. 

 

It took Woojin a moment to understand who ‘he’ was. The dancer glanced around and, much to his surprise, the lutist was nowhere to be seen. A ring of people still encircled the two as they stumbled out of the fountain, but the man wasn’t a part of it. Apparently, Woojin thought, he wasn’t particularly fond of gaping at lunatics. He noted that it seemed a rather good, sensible quality for one to have. Should Jaehwan ever have an opportunity to legitimately speak to him, the lutist could, perhaps, be a good influence.

 

Of course, Woojin had never anticipated the possibility that had presented itself in that instance. He thought Jaehwan would at least make it across the clearing.

 

* * *

 

“-And that’s when I kicked him,” Eunji said proudly. Namjoo and Hayoung gasped in awe at their senior. The three had been enjoying the second day of the festival on a much more modest level than the prior. Though Eunji hadn’t been present, she did not need much information to understand where the girls had gone wrong in their planning. The two lesser maids had gotten entirely too drunk and apparently met some nice boys. They’d gotten separated, and Namjoo had woken up in a lady burlesque’s wagon dressed like a cat. Hayoung had, apparently, managed to get to her bedroom. Or so she’d thought. Eunji had woken up and nearly stepped on the poor girl who had decided her room’s floor a cozy place to curl up.

 

“You’re so brave,” Hayoung said in amazement. Eunji had merely been telling a story about a time she’d gotten into a drunken brawl with a few rowdy stable boys who’d gotten over enthusiastic with her.

 

“Brave? I mean, were they ugly at all? Seems like a missed opportunity to me,” Namjoo joked. That earned her a smack on the shoulder from the head maid.

 

“I understand that in this time of life, the prospect of dancing and toasting with handsome men is appealing, but, trust me… You are not missing much.”

 

“Well, at least I would know what I am missing if I had had any experience!” Namjoo pouted.

 

“Why must your lives revolve around silly boys anyways. You’ve got each other!”

 

“She’s right,” Hayoung giggled, “We do have each other. Shall we marry, Namjoo?”

 

Namjoo played along facetiously, “Oh, yes, we shall! Perhaps I will build us a house in the woods and clear a plot for crops!”

 

“That sounds splendid! Will I be the one to bear children, then?”

 

“Well, I suppose you must be- given that I am working to provide for our family.”

 

“That is absolutely perfect, then! Thank you, Miss Eunji. We shall move to our farm in the woods and have our very own family. What a splendid idea!”

 

Eunji rolled her eyes, “You needn’t be so dramatic. Obviously, I was referring to companionship. For all those other bells and whistles, you truly can wait at least a few days. The last thing you want is some drifter blowing through here to capture your heart only to shatter it when they leave and never returns.”

 

“That’s quite harsh, isn’t it?” Namjoo said.

 

“Life is harsh,” The head maid shrugged.

 

“I feel as if there is a story here,” Hayoung smirked. She poked Eunji on the shoulder once. Then again. And again. Just before her prodding drove her senior to the brink of insanity, a welcome distraction cut in.

 

“Care to have a reading ladies?” A chipper voice came out of a tent beside the trio.

 

Eunji turned to see the source: a slim man with a kind smile. He’d adorned himself with a few fanciful bits and bobs, but did not look as ridiculous as she would have pictured the fortune teller types.

 

“I- Can we do that?” Namjoo turned to whisper to Eunji. “Are we- are we going to be in trouble?”

 

The eldest rolled her eyes, “I think God will forgive us- that is, if you ladies would fancy an oracle.” Hayoung and Namjoo exchanged curious looks. The two shrugged and nodded enthusiastically. Eunji smiled, gesturing toward the unassuming man with the colorful sash around his waist.

 

“Have you got time for three?” Eunji asked, a grin on her face.

 

The man nodded, “Of course. I am Seer Holland, by the way. At your service,” He bowed deeply. Upon rising, he gestured toward his tent, leading the three maids in. The smell of rosemary permeated the air as the maids crossed the threshold. When the tent’s curtain shut behind them, they were plunged into near-darkness save for the myriad candles scattered throughout.

 

“Now, I typically use my scrying orb, but for a group of three, I think it may be fun to do other forms of divination. I’ve actually got a kettle on the fire just behind the tent. Have you ever heard of tea readings?”

 

“Tea… Readings?” Eunji shook her head. She’d heard and seen many things in her years as a maid, but she could genuinely admit that tea readings weren’t among them. 

 

“Must we drink some sort of concoction?” Namjoo asked.

 

“Will the tea cause us to get possessed?” Hayoung added.

 

Holland laughed, “No, no, not at all. You drink the tea - a regular cup of tea, that is - then I read the leaves left in the cup.”

 

“Hm.” “Oh.” The two younger maids sounded a combination of relieved and disappointed.

 

“If you would prefer to have a lucid spiritual experience, I can-”

 

“No, they’ll be alright,” Eunji cut off the fortune teller. Chasing around her hallucinating undermaids did not sound like an appealing way to spend the evening to her. “Though, a cup of tea does sound splendid. Doesn’t it, girls?”

 

“Yes!” “Mmm, oh yes!”

 

“Excellent! The water ought to be ready. I have a smoky oolong from up north and a beautiful green from, well, this Kingdom right here. However, I would most recommend the mint tea - it is made with herbs I have grown myself.”

 

“A homegrown tea? That sounds delightful!” Eunji grinned.

 

“Mmm, mint.” “Mint? For a tea? How interesting.”

 

“Mint it shall be, then. Just a few moments, then,” The seer exited out the back of his tent to pour their cups.

 

“Oh! A divination! My mother would be absolutely devastated if she heard I was doing this,” Namjoo chuckled.

 

Hayoung replied as she gaped at the intricacies of the tent,“Your mother? My mama would die- well, die again.”

 

“Hayoung!”

 

“What?”

 

“How can you speak of such things so casually?”

 

“Wh- Most people do not have living parents these days, Namjoo,” Hayoung crossed her arms and pouted.

 

“Your lightheartedness is enviable,” Eunji added. She hoped that the girls were treasuring their youth, happily watching the two bicker.

 

“-Well I don’t think he can invoke a spirit,” Namjoo said.

 

“Thinking about it, I’m not quite sure I would want him to speak to mama. As I said she would be most cross that I am even here.”

 

“That sounds like quite the upsetting divination, doesn’t it? Asking the ball a question and getting scolded by  your mother.” The two giggled.

 

“Actually, the ball does not speak,” Holland’s soothing voice interrupted the others’ chatter. In his hands, he held a beautifully crafted tray. On top of the intricately carved round of metal sat four petite silver mugs and a tall gooseneck teapot. The seer set the tray down on his table carefully, handing each girl a cup. Delicately, he lifted the opulently engraved teapot and poured steaming water into each cup. The trio took a collective deep breath.

 

“It smells sublime,” Eunji commented, eyeing the beverage.

 

“Homegrown herbs are the best. Now, if I may guide you in meditation, a clear mind is best to pose a question to the spirits.”

 

The maids exchanged unsure looks, but they quickly shook off their reservations. They looked at the man in front of them for guidance.

 

With a nod, Holland continued, “If you would please, close your eyes for a moment and focus on your breathing. Steady, deep breaths, in and out the nose. In… And out… In… And out… Take in the aromas around you, the woodiness of the rosemary, the sharp, refreshing notes of the mint tea. Take them in and let them surround you, soothe you, as you breathe… In… And out…”

 

Steadily, the maids’ rhythm began to match the seer’s instruction. They each filled their lungs to the brim, taking in the warm vapors coming off of their tea. Then out they expelled their breaths, slowly. Soon, it lulled even the ever-skeptical Eunji into a sense of serenity.

 

“You may blink open your eyes whenever you are ready. Your tea is likely still rather warm, so I recommend you take rest. Sip at a natural pace, you needn’t force yourself. In the meanwhile, why not tell me a bit about yourselves? About your life here? Talk about anything you want, really.”

 

“Do  _ not  _ encourage them,” Eunji chuckled, blowing at the steam dancing above her tea.

 

“Actually, please, do encourage them- us,” Namjoo said. She took a sip of her tea, and her face quickly scrunched into an expression of pain. “Oh! Hot! Hot!”

 

“Yes, it may be a few minutes,” Holland reiterated. “In the meanwhile, may we start with… Your names?”

 

“I am the head maid, Eunji. These are some of my closest girls, Namjoo and Hayoung.”

 

“Hello!” “How do you do?”

 

The blond man smiled kindly, blowing on his own tea,“I imagine your work is quite hard, yet you all are still so fair and high in spirits. It truly lends you all a beautiful aura. I am glad the people of Castle Jeon have the likes of you looking after them.”

 

“I like you,” Eunji said with a laugh.

 

“Me too! Nobody ever cares about us. We are invisible!”

 

Hayoung nodded emphatically,“Nobles are absolute monsters. Naeun had told me just weeks ago about having to clean up Duke Hwang’s room, and let me tell you-”

 

“Please do not mention Duke Hwang!” Namjoo tittered, “The man is fair as a fox, but an absolute pig. After what he’d done to Seongwoo, ugh!”

 

“Hm?” Holland inquired with a quirked eyebrow.

 

“Oh, goodness, don’t mind them. Just court gossip about our favorite concubine is all. Boring things,” Eunji said with a laugh.

 

“Boring? Not at all. To be honest, traffic around these edges of the festival is rather slow. Please,” A friendly grin crossed the seer’s lips, and he eyed the trio with interest. Taking a sip of his tea, he said,“Tell me all about it.”

 

* * *

 

“Guanlin,” Seongwoo pursued the chick concubine with swiftness. He’d spent half the day tailing the boy, contemplating cornering him. As if he knew that, Guanlin had kept Seonho fixed to his side like a knight did their shield. Much to the boy’s dismay, it was not a sustainable tactic. Early evening was Seonho’s time to sing, and Guanlin had no choice but to stand by while the other performed. 

 

That was when Ong had taken his chance. The patheticness of how he’d spent his day was not lost on him; regardless, he was determined to get things right. Or, at least one thing. The older concubine had spotted the younger close to Seonho’s performance spot, a constructed theater toward the center of the garden. As the budding singer keyed out his tune on the piano that had been brought out, Ong had started to close in.

 

Guanlin turned, eyes wide. His pupils quickly shifted downwards and he started scuttling away through the crowd, muttering “excuse me”s along the way. Seongwoo rolled his eyes. He’d gotten tired of silence incredibly quick. It dawned on him that he did not have a century to get things right with the boy. He could not let things go on like they had been with the chick, the boy he considered a little brother. He couldn’t.

 

The tall, slender figure of the young concubine exited the crowd and made way toward the treeline. With his height, taking long strides was easy, and he covered distance fast. Seongwoo struggled to keep up, trying his best to appear nondescript as he picked up into a trot. The two bobbed and weaved between people, crossing section after section of festivities. Guanlin navigated around crowds of dancers and between rowdy salespeople; Ong followed on his heels. 

 

“Guanlin!” Seongwoo said more loudly. The younger boy glanced over his shoulder briefly but he did not stop moving.

 

Soon the line of forest grew closer and closer, and the racket of the festival died down. Orange rays of setting sunlight trickled between the thick woods. The younger concubine’s form cast long shadows behind himself as he walked toward the woods, ducking behind a tree. Seongwoo rolled his eyes. The boy’s Master may have been adept at stealth and intrigue. His ward? Not so much.

 

“Guanlin, I know you’re behind that tree!” Seongwoo hollered at the edge of the woods, winded. He hunched over, taking a few breaths. A heavy sigh sounded out from behind one of the thick oak trees, and from it emerged a malcontent looking Guanlin.

 

“What?” Was all the boy said. His tone sounded more clipped than Ong had ever heard it.

 

“What? What  _ what _ ? Why are you avoiding me? You’ve- you’ve run halfway across the gardens just to evade me. What is going on with you? You’re- you’re not like this.”

 

Guanlin frowned. He looked away. His face looked dark with the sun at his back, but Ong could still see the anguish paint itself across his features. The older of the two felt at a loss. He had never intended on hurting Guanlin. The boy was one of the few people he considered genuinely precious beneath the roof of Castle Jeon; yet, he’d done just that. He’d hurt him. 

 

Seongwoo felt a combination of shame and guilt about it. Had he not been so prideful in his back and forth with Jihoon, perhaps it could have been avoided. Instead, he insisted on pushing the other man, provoking him like a child poking a snake with a stick. Unlike that rhetorical child, he hadn’t been bitten. Seongwoo wished that he’d been bitten, but it was much worse than that.

 

He’d been kissed.

 

The mere thought of it made Seongwoo feel uncomfortable in more ways than he knew he had the capacity to.

 

“Well, considering that I am, in fact, acting of my own accord, I suppose I _am_ like this,” Guanlin spat back, crossing his arms.

 

Ong wanted to roll his eyes, but he knew it wasn’t the time to be patronizing; far from it, “Can you- Would you please just tell me what… What can be done to fix this? What I- What are you mad about. Can you please tell me what it is precisely that has made you so upset?”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” The boy shrugged. 

 

“Yes, it does. Clearly, I have- I’ve hurt you, and I want to make this right. But- But please know that whatever you think you saw was not what it looked like.”

 

“Oh? Are you to tell me that my Master fell and was so graciously caught by your lips? How _kind_ of you,” Guanlin said through gritted teeth. 

 

“He did kiss me, but, he was very drunk. He likely thought that I was you-”

 

“Stop lying. Do you think I’m an idiot?” The bitterness in the chick’s voice shot ice into Seongwoo’s veins. He hardly recognized the boy in front of him. No, Ong thought, not a boy. A man. A young man. A very young man with hellfire in his eyes and venom on his tongue. 

 

Seongwoo had always thought that General Park’s skewed perspective on preserving innocence was a pot of shit. He’d always thought the man insane for striving so hard to protect something fictional, nonexistent even. Seeing Guanlin act in such a way made him reconsider for a mere instant.

 

“Guanlin, no. I don’t think you’re an idiot,” Seongwoo replied, his voice soft. He slowly approached the other, watching carefully. The younger concubine seemed wound impossibly tight. A misspoken word could cause him to snap, Seongwoo thought. “How long… How much- how much did you see?” The older man asked, his tone dropping in defeat.

 

“Do you mean last time you two had your hands all over each other? Or every other time?”

 

“Every other- what?” Complete confusion shunted away Seongwoo’s sadness and dismay. His eyes went wide with perturbation.

 

“How long has this- this thing you two have been going on?” Guanlin asked. He stepped closer, his facial features set in a firm look of anger.

 

“Guanlin what are you talking about?” Seongwoo’s question was genuine. He had no idea what the boy was saying.

 

“I see the way you look at each other- how- how your eyes catch one another across the room,” The chick’s voice grew thicker.

 

“Our- our what?”

 

“He watches you, you know. I bet you notice- you- you’ve got to. How he stares at you. Even when I’m right by him,” The younger man’s voice sounded immensely bitter, but sadness began seeping in alongside it. As he walked closer, Seongwoo could make out the shine of teardrops in the other’s eyes.

 

“He is suspicious of me,” Seongwoo admitted. “He thinks that I am a threat to the King due to my… Misconduct. That is likely why-”

 

“Shut up! You two are- You two are the same- you’re- you’re similar. You are both prideful and handsome and brilliant and- and-” Guanlin’s voice cracked, “And so much more than I will ever be.” He brought a hand to cover his face.

 

Seongwoo rushed to the other, not caring how much the boy hated him at that moment. He grabbed his little brother by the shoulders, urging him to meet his eyes.

 

“Look at me,” Seongwoo said, calmly, “Look at me that is- that is not true.”

 

“Yes, it is,” Guanlin said, his chest heaving with suppressed sobs, “It is. You- you’re so handsome and mature and- and all the things Master wants. I can’t believe it took me so long to figure it out. I cannot even blame him for wanting you more than he wants me. I would feel the same if I were him-” He choked back a sob.

 

“Guanlin! You are talking madness,” Seongwoo insisted, “Your Master adores you just the way you are. If you were to be like me I- well, it’d be a nightmare for him. He cares so much about you.” The older concubine shook the younger one.

 

“Is that why he won’t- he won’t-”

 

“Oh God, do not dare finish that sentence,” Seongwoo said. He tried his best to skirt around the topic without dipping into explicitly uncomfortable territory. “Guanlin, you- you may find this hard to understand, but please know what I say is true. General Park loves you very much. I- I truly believe that he adores you. The thing is that… His adoration is… He loves everything about you, including your innocence. I- I cannot speak to his intentions, but… If you are, um- If you are as you are right now, it is because General Park loves you that way. And I am sure that in the future if, you- he, um, will love you as you are then.”

 

Seongwoo felt relieved that Guanlin hadn’t placed blame on him personally, but he almost wished the other had. He would much rather have had the other angry at him than feeling inadequate. It struck Ong as especially ludicrous considering how plainly beautiful the boy was. Ultimately, the entire ordeal just reinforced how much he despised General Park.

 

Guanlin stayed silent. He looked down dejectedly.

 

“Guanlin, please, just… Believe me. Maybe- maybe you needn’t forgive me now, but if you can just believe me- believe that I have never had any intention of being with your Master, then… Then I think we can be okay.”

 

A long pause ensued. Nothing but wind rustling branches and leaves together could be heard at the treeline.

 

After what had felt like an eternity, Guanlin replied.

 

“I believe you,” He said weakly. He backed away from Seongwoo, releasing himself from the other’s grasp. Though his gaze still wouldn’t meet the older man’s, at the very least tears had stopped falling down his cheeks. That, Ong decided, was a victory. “I just… I don’t know if I can look at you right now.” 

 

Seongwoo nodded. Though it made his heart sink, he thought it an adequate consolation. The truth didn’t matter; Guanlin’s feelings did. If, in Guanlin’s mind, things happened a certain way, and things needed to be resolved in a certain way, so be it. Ong typically would have been more insistent on the truth being crystal clear, but Seongwoo still had the urge to treat the other delicately. He knew he oughtn’t baby the other or safeguard him too much due to age alone, but he couldn’t help it. Perhaps one day, he mused, Guanlin and him would be on the level of brotherhood where issues were settled with fists or shouting matches.

 

That day had yet to come.

 

Seongwoo didn’t think it ever would, and he felt okay with that.

 

“Please, take as much time as you need,” Seongwoo said softly.

 

“Yes, thank you,” Guanlin muttered. He strode past Seongwoo toward the festival.

 

“Have, um, have a good rest of your festival,” Ong called after the other.

 

Guanlin didn’t respond. He just kept walking.

 

Seongwoo sighed in dejection as he watched the younger man’s form disappear in the distance. His eyes remained fixed in that spot between two tents he’d seen the other disappear for far too long. He felt as if everything was crumbling in his hands, falling between the cracks of his fingers.

 

In the long run, it did not matter. None of it did. 

 

He told himself that over and over again, in the hopes that he’d believe it.

 

“-’ve been having a wonderful time with him!”

 

Seongwoo’s heart jumped into his throat, and he leaped behind the nearest obstruction he could find: an old oak tree. Mixed in with the winds loudly shaking branches and leaves, voices just barely stood out. The concubine strained his ears to make out what the two were saying. He quirked an eyebrow in interest, trying to distinguish their voices. He felt grateful that, for once, Queen Irene spoke rather intensely, throwing her soft, prim tone to the wind.

 

“-And I am glad, brother, but you must at least give him a chance!” One could hear the Queen’s patience wearing thin.

 

“I- I  _ am _ . I have said nothing to put him off.” Even Prince Jinyoung sounded intent, something Ong did not think the boy capable of.

 

“You have said nothing at all! How can he see how wonderful you are if you insist on hiding yourself away like a scared mouse?”

 

“Perhaps I do not care if he ‘sees how wonderful I am’.”

 

“Jinyoung!” Irene scoffed. “You’ve never been difficult about  _ anything  _ in your life. Why- why must you choose to be now? About this of all things? You understand what is at stake here.”

 

“I understand precisely how these things go about. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter, does it? Love and marriage… Those sorts of things are not able to coexist in a marriage, are they? I bet that’s why they have those- those concubines in this country.”

 

“Spare me,” Seongwoo swore he heard the woman roll her eyes. He struggled to picture it: someone so regal and proper emoting so vividly; yet he could not help imagining it. “That disgusting ‘tradition’ of theirs certainly bears no regard to love.”

 

“Love, passion, lust- Who cares! At least they are allowed to possess some semblance of prurience as opposed to what our people do. Birth a few heirs and spend the remaining decades of existence in a persistent state of loveless contempt.”

 

“Brother…” Queen Irene sighed dejectedly, “Neither you nor myself are going to end up like our parents. I promise you, there will be love in your life- my life- for both of us, but… That love may not be something as neat as what you read in a play. It will not be wrapped up nicely and tied with a little bow. First and foremost, we must love our people and our country first.”

 

“That’s easy for you to say,” Fast footsteps followed the Prince’s harshly spat out words. Seongwoo heard them come nearer, and for a moment his anxiety tripled. He pressed himself against the trunk of the tree in hopes that it’d help him blend in. The cross prince strode past the tree quickly, looking nowhere but in front of himself. Ong’s eyes followed his figure until he departed between a couple of tents, back into the midst of the festival celebrations.

 

A deep sigh sounded out, the Queen, no doubt. Her footsteps soon followed. The layers of fabric that gave her skirt volume made a soft shuffling noise as she departed as well.

 

Seongwoo kept himself firmly in place for a few minutes afterward. He tried to process the things he’d just heard, but little made sense. He’d gotten the gist of it: Prince Jinyoung was, apparently, disenchanted with the reality of noble life. 

 

Suddenly, a pit began to form in Seongwoo’s stomach.

 

The reality of noble life caused him to reflect on the reality of his life. A flurry of dread filled his body. It caused his heart to ache in such a way that the toll he felt wasn’t merely emotional.

 

Too soon, Seongwoo thought, despair rending his heart.

 

Everything was happening too soon.

 

* * *

 

“It is…” Yeri faked a sniffle, “It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” She and Joy stood with linked arms in front of a tall window on the second floor of Castle Jeon. From their spot, they had an excellent view of the gardens below and, more precisely, the chaos that had ensued in them. From above the two looked over various sectioned off plots, each planned to showcase different greenery from around the world. One of them, however, showcased something much more red and purple. 

 

Bodies threw themselves at one another in a chaotic jumble of limbs. Even from within the castle, muffled cacophony leaked through the glass panes of the window. Young girls and boys yelled with red faces and yanked at one another’s clothing. Expletives flew through the air like the spores of a dandelion. Not only were humans throwing themselves at each other; they also threw anything within reach. Tomatoes, chairs, sweetmeats, and even instruments were not safe from the screeching banshees that the people had become.

 

“They are most easily riled. I do hope that this is not how most of your Kingdom conducts debate with one another,” Joy laughed.

 

The pair had hatched a rather simple plan to bring about their little pocket of festival discord. It had been so easy that Yeri nearly felt disappointed. Had the result not been so epic, she would have been disappointed in herself for lack of effort. However, things had turned out even better than they’d hoped.

 

Yeri and Joy had gone to each troupe’s spot in the gardens and spotted a few of their admirers. Joy whispered to one set of admirers (the ones who followed the Bangtan troupe). She’d told the bunch that their favorite actors would be doing a secret performance in the southeast section of the gardens. The pair crossed the gardens, scouting out the Ecksoh followers in a similar way. Yeri had told a few that  _ they  _ were to put on a surprise show in the southeast section of the gardens. The two had expected to put more effort into spreading the rumors, but, strangely enough, they circulated quite well with little help on their part. The two had spent the remainder of the day drinking, eating, and dancing merrily. 

 

Joy had introduced Yeri to her fellow ladies-in-waiting: Seulgi and Wendy. The two were rather fun and nice, and they explored happily as four. Yeri felt surprised at how easily she’d acclimated herself to being with them. Even though she was the youngest, the four found a stride in conversation quite quickly. The young countess dreaded thinking about how much she would miss such easy conversation. Joy and Yeri had eventually broken off once more. After a few more drinks and some more food, they found the perfect viewing spot safe in Castle Jeon.

 

“It is not typically so violent, but I believe the festival brings out the most… Genuine part of a person,” The countess giggled.

 

“If that is the case, then you are genuinely wonderful.”

 

“You flatter me too much. It is you that is wonderful. I feel like you are just so… Different from other girls around here. You are concerned with more than your wealth or finding a suitor.”

 

“Well, I am fortunate enough to be in a secure spot. My country allows me to have a certain degree of agency in my position, despite my being a woman.”

 

“That sounds dreamy. Here if you are not a queen or a princess- well, I suppose even if you are - your life revolves around others.”

 

“Others being…”

 

“Men,” Yeri scrunched her nose.

 

“I suppose that is the reality where you are from,” The lady-in-waiting’s plush lips pouted. “It’s an absolute waste of- of you!”

 

“It is, isn’t it?” Yeri nodded vigorously. She sighed, and a comfortable silence fell over the two of them. They watched the chaos they’d provoked unfold in the gardens below contentedly.

 

“I know it is a large thing to ask, but… Please, come to be a lady-in-waiting for Queen Irene. You can be with me, and the other girls- you will like being with them, I know you will.”

 

“What?” Yeri’s face fell into an expression of shock.

 

Joy looked at the younger girl; her smile had fallen, and her voice took on a serious tone, “Her majesty, Queen Irene, she will be in need of more support, more companionship in the upcoming months. I know this for a fact. We have already been vetting girls to be ladies-in-waiting. Yeri, you are kind and exuberant. You can be most proper, but you are always authentically yourself which is- which is so wonderful. Please, let me put a good word in with Irene.”

 

“Would- would I- do you want me to go with you all the way to-”

 

“You needn’t make your decision right now,” Joy took hold of Yeri’s hand, interlacing their fingers. She gave the other’s hand a soft clasp, “Think about it. We… We have a duty to follow our Queen wherever she may be. That could be here, that could be in our home country. It could be across the sea, but… I think you will find it doesn’t matter so long as you are in good company.”

 

“Good company?” Yeri let out a laugh. Even though nothing about what Joy had said had been particularly sad, tears welled up in her eyes. She supposed it was due to how surreal it felt. Oddly enough, the offer made her ecstatically happy. Her heart soared hearing the words. The young noble girl knew that, realistically, her parents would need heavy convincing. She’d known Joy for a few days, yet she felt like the two had been friends for lifetimes. It seemed so sudden and serendipitous, and part of her feared that she’d just imagined the entire day. “You’re not just good company, Joy.”

 

“Wh- Oh, no- I’ve, I’ve made you cry!” Joy fussed and her own eyes began to glaze over with wetness. 

 

“No- No it’s- it’s fantastic, I promise!” Yeri sniffled, tears running down her face. Joy’s spare hand rose to the younger girl’s cheek, wet with tears. Gently, her thumb swiped away one of the falling droplets. Yeri could only watch the other’s face, her chest a jumbled mess of emotion. She felt happy, excited, nervous, and anxious all at the same time. Each feeling and idea yearned for dominance, but nothing could quite come out legibly.

 

The young countess stood up on her toes, bringing her lips to meet the other’s. In her mind, it had seemed like the proper thing to do, the only way to relieve the pressure that had been weighing down her heart. Joy’s hand transitioned from merely resting on Yeri’s face to cupping it. The older girl actively guided the other’s face more closely to hers, and she returned the kiss timidly.

 

Their small corner of Castle Jeon felt impossibly quiet yet raucously loud. Though not even a servant was in sight, the rushing of blood and pounding heartbeat nearly deafened Yeri. She’d read plays and stories countless times, and each one had described love in its dramatic, flowery prose. It had always seemed to be such a thing that was meant to remain in books and only books. Talk of fireworks and fires burning inside of a person had stricken the countess as excessive and fantastical. Feeling Joy’s lips against hers, she concluded: perhaps the authors she’d read had been onto something.

 

Yeri felt short of breath when the two separated. She couldn’t quite tell whether she was lightheaded due to legitimate air deprivation or dizzy glee. Joy cracked a tiny smile, and Yeri couldn’t help but return it. 

 

“ _ Booom _ !”

 

A flash of light illuminated the dim corridor the two stood in.

 

“Oh! The fireworks!” Joy said excitedly. She pressed her nose to the window, and Yeri followed.

 

“Goodness! It’s already gotten quite late, then.”

 

Yeri sighed, “No fair! Time drags on when something boring is happening, but just as things go well, it skips by so quickly.”

 

Joy reached a hand out toward Yeri once more; she linked their pinkies without removing her eyes from the flashing sparks in the sky.

 

“True, it does, but you needn’t worry.” The lady-in-waiting said.

 

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

 

“Well, we ought to have plenty of time to enjoy moments like this in the future, I reckon.”

 

Yeri grinned. She gazed at the girl next to her. Joy’s eyes twinkled as she watched the cascading fireworks happily. Even though she was older than Yeri, she retained an almost childlike innocence about her when viewing the flying colors and light. 

 

“You’re right. We shall,” Yeri replied before returning her gaze out the window.

 

* * *

 

After Jaehwan had taken his tumble in the fountain, the Castle Jeon performance duo opted to swap out their ale and mead for teas. After a few hours, the two had started feeling mostly right - just in time for their evening performance. Things had been moving along swimmingly; Woojin had executed all of his new choreography flawlessly, and the crowd cheered giddily at Jaehwan’s vocal flourishes.

 

Then, things had gone very, very south. 

 

Without cause, an anarchic brawl broke out just paces away from their performance site. It started with a few young women, but soon a village’s worth of people ran into the fray. The words they shouted were so deafening that neither the dancer nor vocalist could discern what was actually being verbalized. Though the two had thought things would die down, the disorder only increased with each passing minute. After a quarter of an hour, the two could no longer maneuver across the garden clearing. They were both too afraid to retreat from the corner of hedges they’d retreated into.

 

“Jaehwan hold me, I’m scared,” A significantly more sober Woojin said with wide eyes. 

 

“No,” Jaehwan said. “You hold me- Oh!” He hugged his guitar closely to his body in hopes that it would shield him.

 

Suddenly, a projectile hurled through the air, headed right toward them. The two narrowly managed to dodge the thing, and it lodged itself in one of the hedges as a result.

 

“That’s it, I’m done here,” Woojin said. Following the example of the flying object, he dove into the hedges, muttering, “Ow- ow, ow- oh, Lord in heaven- this has thorns- ow!” Miraculously, he managed to disappear in the thing. The green shrub shook violently with the dancer’s movements. After a long few minutes, it stopped, and Woojin’s voice emerged once more. “Oh! This is much better! It’s not that bad once you’ve gotten used to the thorns. Come along!”

 

Woojin being unable to see did not stop Jaehwan from making an unamused face, “I will not.”

 

“It’s quite serene over here, really- oh. Ouch. I- I may perhaps need to make way toward the infirmary.”

 

“Brilliant,” Jaehwan said, “You do that. I will find you… Eventually,” He turned back to the chaos in front of him.

 

Jaehwan heaved a sigh. The festival had been fun, but as a performer, it also meant a lot of work. He wished he could simply enjoy himself like everyone else, but, alas, it was his duty to bring the enjoyment. Though he’d told Woojin that he’d find the man, in all honesty, he felt most tempted to retire to bed. 

 

Gathering the motivation to do just that, the performer eyed the instrument sticking out of the bushes curiously.

 

The lute looked familiar. 

 

With a quirked eyebrow, the court musician withdrew it. He held the instrument by the handle with his free hand, inspecting it. Looking back at the crowd, he began searching. Amidst the chaos, one person stood rather calmly. He looked mildly distressed, and his head darted around in search of something.

 

The crowd of people terrified Jaehwan, but he stood. Slowly, he started trudging across the sea of people running around hectically, shouting obscenities. Some of the passing bodies collided with him roughly, and a few even hollered curses at him. The court musician kept mindful of the instruments in his hands, huddling them close to his body as he waded through. In his vision, only one thing, one person, was in front of him.

 

Finally, the singer reached the man missing the lute: Sewoon. Jaehwan gave the slender musician a tap on the shoulder to rouse his attention. The man jumped slightly and gasped. He looked at Jaehwan with fear in his eyes for a few moments. When he realized that Jaehwan had no intention of hurting him or yelling about a theater troupe, his body slackened with relief.

 

“Wh- Oh. It’s you,” Sewoon said softly.

 

“I- I haven’t the foggiest what you mean, we have never met before,” Jaehwan replied with an awkward laugh.

 

Whether Sewoon genuinely believed Jaehwan or merely didn’t care: one could not tell. Phlegmatically, the slim musician gave a shrug.

 

“Right, well, is there something I can help you with? I- I apologize if I’m a bit distracted, you see I’ve lost my-”

 

“This?” Jaehwan extended the lute that he’d been carrying in a tight grip.

 

Sewoon’s face lit up, and a smile spread across his lips, “Yes! Oh my- You are so kind! Truly, a savior! I’d be in a state of crisis without my instrument.” He took it gingerly from Jaehwan’s hands, hugging it close for a few moments.

 

“I understand,” Jaehwan chuckled, holding up his guitar with a grin.

 

Sewoon gasped, “You play? I- I’ve always wanted to learn guitar.”

 

“W-Well,” Jaehwan thought about his words for a moment. He typically would have spoken suggestively, but he opted to be bolder. He credited the lingering mead in his system for his newfound brazenness. “Well, I’ve got a practice room in the castle. It can serve as a sanctuary from-” He looked around, “-all of this.”

 

“I- I wouldn’t dream of imposing. Not to mention, I, um, I am sure there are rules and regulations regarding who can and cannot enter Castle Jeon.”

 

“There certainly are, which is why you would enter as my guest,” Jaehwan extended his free hand. “Getting to the door is likely to be the trickiest part. Going through it will be easy.”

  
Sewoon looked at the extended hand for a few instants. His own hand reached out hesitantly, and Jaehwan briefly thought the man was going to recoil it completely. However, he didn’t. The lutist shyly took hold of the guitarist’s hand.

 

“Lead the way, then,” Sewoon said. He chuckled timidly, and pink subtly tinted his cheeks. With a genuine grin, Jaehwan did just that, leading the other toward Castle Jeon.

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo stared out the window of the King’s quarters. He could hardly believe how time had flown by. The last remaining stragglers milled about drunkenly across the garden clearings. It filled Ong with wonder that the palace gardeners could recuperate the space after such thorough trampling. A frown crossed his lips. Soon, it would all end. The gaiety, the lights and sounds and people, it would all disappear. Incredible amounts of effort, toil, and struggle would soon culminate into the conclusion that he’d strived for. The thought surely ought to have made him happy.

 

Yet, it did not.

 

All that it did was drain his body of feeling; the void left would soon consume all emotion, leaving him numb. This he was sure of. He knew no other way that he, his body, could cope with the oncoming future. Never did the concubine think that he would yearn for just a few more days of the status quo. Wrestling sensations tugged within his chest. Forceful thoughts pulled him in every which direction, and the grappling emotions began inflicting even physical anguish.

 

“Seongwoo, you’re here already,” A hushed voice sounded out behind the concubine. Suddenly, the riotous feelings in Seongwoo’s chest fled; they did so as if they were bugs upon which a light had been shone, scurrying into the darkness. The King stood, stunning as ever. 

 

The concubine turned around, a warm smile crossing his lips, “I grew tired rather early.”

  
Daniel quickly closed in on the other, pacing across the room in long strides. He wrapped his long arms around the other’s waist and pulled him into a kiss. Seongwoo did not hesitate to return the gesture. He looped his own arms around the other’s neck, and his body eased into the other.

 

When the two separated, Daniel regarded his ward with a doting grin, “If you need rest, we can retire to bed in haste.”

 

Seongwoo chuckled; peculiarly, heat stung his cheeks. He thought he had gotten past the point in their association to feel such petty excitements. Apparently, he realized, he’d been wrong. Minor attentions still affected him more than he hoped.

 

“In truth, I am not so tired that I wish to sleep. I tired of, well, people,” Seongwoo glanced out the window once more, “It has been a wonderful time, truly, but I just… Prefer to enjoy it from afar tonight.”

 

“That comes as an immense relief,” Daniel replied, his gaze following Seongwoo’s. “I, too, tire of people. Except you, of course. We share a bed yet I can hardly spare you a minute,” He frowned.

 

“You have obligations, I understand-”

 

“I know you understand,” The King cut the other off resolutely, “Of course you do. Quite frankly it is… It is my own personal greed that ails me.” His shoulders sagged as he sighed. The concubine slid his hands down from the other’s neck. His fingertips fiddled with the silk lacing of his majesty’s jerkin.

 

“We have time now, haven’t we? At the very least, you should spend it comfortably,” The concubine said.    
  


He pulled on the bow that kept the King’s doublet snugly shaped to his body. Meticulously, Seongwoo unlaced each cross section of ribbon until the only thing keeping the garment up was his majesty’s broad shoulders. Daniel shrugged the jacket off, relishing in the other’s careful attention. 

 

It brought to Seongwoo’s mind something Sungwoon had told him long before. The older concubine had informed him that he’d taken up the duty of laying out clothes and helping his Master dress. At the time, Seongwoo had thought it servant’s work, the reallocation of a petty task for the sake of some noble’s morning indulgence. Looking back, he felt almost foolish for not piecing Sungwoon’s relationship with Jisung together more quickly. Sungwoon hadn’t helped the man dress out of servitude; it was an act of love.

 

Seongwoo had never anticipated how strangely special it could feel to undress someone. Though he wished he could deny it, in honesty, he enjoyed it. His joy came not from the banal motivations of the flesh (though he by no means ignored those), but a satisfaction of sorts. He could provide little for Daniel in actuality. He had no coin to call his own; no title, land, or gifts to offer the man. What he could provide were small things: kisses, sneaky smiles, and small gestures of affection. Where words failed Seongwoo, his actions could compensate.

 

The King finished what Seongwoo had started. He sat on the edge of his bed and took off his boots, along with the variety of jewels that had adorned his fingers, wrists, and neck. When he’d finally stripped down to breeches and a shirt, he approached the concubine once more.

 

“I hope your day was alright.”

 

“It was… Not the worst by any means.”

 

“I should hope not. If anything were to be worse than our hunting trip I would worry terribly for you.”

 

“The rum was an okay consolation, though.”

 

“You say that because it was not poured on your open wounds.”

 

“I’m shocked you can recall given how much you consumed.”

 

“I recall little other than the pain and…” He gave Seongwoo an impish look.

 

Searing heat stung the concubine’s cheeks at the implication, “So what was on your agenda today?” The concubine cut the other’s embarrassing thought off before it could further advance.

 

“Oh, just… Diplomacy. Tours. Festivities. The jousting- you saw that. Then… Dance, dance, dance, dance. Queen Irene loves dancing.”

 

“Oh? That’s wonderful. Dancing is a nice past time I- I quite enjoy it myself?”

 

“Do you? I actually do as well, but all the dances we did were so… Courtly. The promenade and the bosse and the loure and- Goodness there are so many yet I tire of them with a quickness. At the very least her majesty is good at it. Exceptional, really.”

 

Ong pursed his lips with displeasure; he had no personal quarrel with Queen Irene, but everyone from Castle Jeon had done nothing but spoken about her nonstop since her arrival. He had long tired of hearing about her and felt inclined to swerve the subject.

 

“I bet I’m better,” The concubine said with a grin.

 

“Oh? You know of court dances? I have seen you do some before. Your skill seems impeccable, though I’ve yet to see you do anything particularly complex.”

 

“Is that a challenge?” Seongwoo asked. 

 

“That depends on whether or not you feel up to it, now doesn’t it?”

 

The concubine chuckled, “I bet I can dance in ways that you’ve never seen before.”

 

“I doubt there is a dance on this earth that I have not seen before.”

 

“I’ll bet you’ve never heard of this one,” Seongwoo said, a small grin on his face. “Come closer.”

 

“Wh- Closer?” 

 

“Unless, of course, you do not think yourself capable-”

 

Daniel hastily closed the gap, grabbing Seongwoo by the waist, “Close enough?”

 

The concubine’s head momentarily flushed all thoughts out at the other’s proximity. Conflicting feelings swam about in his head, but he quickly dispatched of them. With a chuckle, he responded:

 

“Actually, yes,” The concubine guided his majesty’s wrists. One of Daniel’s hands moved to rest on Seongwoo’s shoulder blade; the other, Seongwoo took in his own hand. Finally, the concubine put his hand at the small of the King’s back.

 

The ruler’s eyes widened in shock, “What are you doing?”

 

“We are dancing,” Seongwoo said, raising his eyebrows suggestively, “It is simple, really. Just follow my lead. I step forward, you step back. I step back, you step forward. I believe even you can grasp that.”

 

“I am capable of following, but only under the close instruction of a competent leader.”

 

The concubine dramatically gasped, “Are you implying that I am not competent.”

 

“Am I?” 

 

“Are you?”

 

“Am I?”

 

“Are you?”

 

“Am I-”

 

“I believe you are,”  Seongwoo abruptly stepped forward, causing Daniel to nearly fall back. He stumbled but regained his balance quickly.

 

“Was that good leadership?”

 

“I was being an excellent leader. My good for nothing student, however…”

 

“I will have you know dance is what I most excelled at.”

 

“Oh, really?” Seongwoo quirked an eyebrow mischievously, “Then we needn’t do the fundamentals. Let us get right on to it, then.” With that, the concubine took up a quick pace, making comically loud counts of three and nearly dragging the other along with him. As he’d described: he would step forward, prompting Daniel to do so. When he stepped back, Daniel had to do so as well. He quickly began adding to the choreography, taking steps to the side, and even leading the other in the form of a box.

 

“What is this?” Daniel asked, laughing as he got the hang of the simple steps.

 

“I told you, it’s a dance.”

 

“A dance?! If people in court were to dance like this they would surely be thrown out for indecency. All this- this chest to chest contact and- and the closeness,” The King chuckled. “Though I must say I myself am a fan.” He pulled Seongwoo closer to himself to illustrate what he’d implied. Their bodies moved in an unspoken rhythm, snugly fitted against one another.

 

“It is not a dance from this Kingdom. I find it quite interesting that this is indecent of all things by your standards.”

 

“Yes, well, I suppose court life has ever the quirks.”

 

The two quickly lapsed into a comfortable pace. They repeated the simple steps with ease: forward, forward, left to right, right back and left back, then again. Seongwoo counted out the rhythm quietly: “one, two, three, one, two, three”, and Daniel followed well. Occasionally, his majesty would look down at their feet, or one would step on the other. Seongwoo would jokingly berate him or instruct him on how better to execute the dance.

 

Over time, they became more acquainted with dancing with one another. Seongwoo had to concede that King Daniel was, in fact, good at dancing. The fact pleasantly surprised him. He supposed he oughtn’t be terribly shocked; dance was a crucial skill in court life. Still, it made him more gleeful than he felt it ought to have. As Daniel improved, the conversation became easier, and soon they lapsed fully into speaking with one another as opposed to counting out the rhythm.

 

“You’re not a terrible student after all,” Seongwoo commented. He wasn’t sure how long the two had been dancing. He’d been so comfortable, he hardly noticed the passage of time.

 

“Must you sound so surprised? This dance is rather easy.”

 

“Oh? If it bores you I can make it interesting then,” In one swift movement, Seongwoo moved his arms; the one at the small of Daniel’s back slid further to loop around his waist while the other let go of his hand to cradle his head. “Wrap your arms around my back and hold on- but, not too tightly.”

 

A look of perplexion scrunched the King’s features, but he obliged, looping his hands around the other. The concubine lunged forward, bending Daniel forward. The King gasped and, as he’d been told, held on for his life. His eyes went wide as his back went parallel with the floor. Seongwoo laughed at the sight of the incredibly confused man in his arms. After a few seconds, he straightened his own body and pulled the other up. Daniel remained dazed for a few moments, letting the strange movements sink in. Seongwoo couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

 

“Do that again,” He finally said after a few minutes of contemplation.

 

Seongwoo could hardly find reason to say no. Once again, he took hold of his majesty by the waist and behind his neck. Bending at the knee, he brought the other down who, much more prepared that time, held on with a firm grip. However, different than the previous time, it was Daniel who’d chosen to surprise Seongwoo with a kiss.

 

Electricity jolted through the concubine’s body upon the contact. Heat washed over his body in its wake, stinging at his lips and making his chest light up with sparks. Despite his better judgement, the concubine let his lips linger on the other’s. However, supporting the other took a toll on him in little time.

 

“Y-you’re heavy,” The concubine chuckled as he led the other to straighten up. “Not too bad, though. Dipping someone like that takes quite… Quite a lot of trust.”

 

“Well, I- I trust you, Seongwoo. At- at least I trust you not to drop me on my head. Do you… Do you trust me?”

 

The question knocked the air out of Seongwoo’s lungs. He wasn’t sure how to answer that. His gut reaction was: yes, yes I trust him. However, there were more facets to that question than he had the time or desire to consider. 

 

“I… I do,” He replied, hoping it didn’t sound too dubious.

 

Abruptly, his majesty’s smile faltered. Though his lips remained upturned, his eyes no longer creased into crescents; something loomed just beneath them. The sight incited panic in the concubine.

 

“What is it?” Seongwoo asked. He brought the hand that had been holding Daniel’s to the King’s cheek. 

 

His majesty forced a grin; he shook his head, saying quietly, “Nothing, nothing at all.” The King brought his hands to his concubine’s face and pressed their lips together again. Seongwoo quickly melted into the gesture. It had become so immensely easy for him to forget everything when caught in the other’s kiss. Perhaps too easy. Still, even thoughts along those lines hardly vexed him when he was allowed to be close to Daniel, when he had the opportunity to indulge.

 

Indulge.

 

Indulge.

 

The word stained his mood with bitterness. That man, the fortune teller, had told him to do just that: indulge for you have little time left. He wondered what troubles Daniel wrestled with so furiously that he did not even dare tell Seongwoo. The man had hardly had incentive to hide anything from his concubine before. For him to begin to do so then, of all times, only drove reality’s dagger further into his heart. 

 

“Actually, I am tired,” Seongwoo said. He pressed his forehead against Daniel’s, clinging to the man’s shirt. He wanted to drink in the warmth of the other, to bathe in it, savor it. “Let’s go to bed.”

 

“Good idea,” Daniel said. He pressed a gentle kiss on Seongwoo’s forehead. 

 

The two did just that. Daniel stripped further until he wore only his short braies. Seongwoo kept only his shirt on, and the two climbed into his majesty’s massive bed. The concubine quickly cuddled up to the King, slinging the other’s arm over himself. He basked in the warmth of the other behind him. Even though Seongwoo knew damn well the man was liable to kick him halfway across the bed in the night, he felt the strong urge to be near him. He hoped it would quell his heart’s aching. Anxieties and affections bubbled inside of him in an acidic slew. He prayed that the knot in his chest would unwind if only enough to allow him sleep.

 

“Seongwoo,” The King piped up. As if all of his exhaustion had hit him at once, he sounded significantly more tired than he had just minutes before.

 

“Daniel,” Seongwoo replied, facetiousness in his tone.

 

His majesty chuckled softly, “Seongwoo please know that I… I will always cherish you, you know.” He kissed the back of his concubine’s head.

 

The knot in Ong’s chest lodged itself in his throat momentarily as he attempted to reply. Finally, words came out.

 

“And I, you,” Seongwoo said. He shimmied his body even closer to the King’s. “I will cherish you always, Daniel. Please remember that.” His voice grew quieter as his own fatigue began setting in.

 

“Mn- I will,” The King murmured sleepily. “I will.”

 

Seongwoo wanted to believe that. He truly did. Instead of belief or conviction, all he felt was the deepening of the hollow in his chest. 

 

It mattered not with how much force or passion he held on; the sands of time slipped through his fingers ceaselessly.


	28. Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 28 WARNING(s): explicit sexual content

“Mn…” Quiet chatter tickled Seongwoo’s ear, rousing him from his deep sleep.

 

Blinking, the concubine slowly acclimated himself to his surroundings. A thin crack of sunlight had snuck in through a crack in his majesty’s plush drapes. The stripe of light spanned the floor in front of it, just barely reaching the concubine’s eyes. He squinted at the intrusion. Little forms shuffled about, Lords Peter and Rooney no doubt.

 

A yawn overtook the concubine’s body, stretching both his mouth and body wide. The movement managed to rouse the warm mass that had been mumbling behind him.

 

“Mmm- ‘Woo is that you?” Daniel’s voice, husky with sleep, asked.

 

“No, it’s the cat,” The concubine answered facetiously.

 

“No… No,” The King mumbled. He shifted slightly, bringing his body closer to the other’s. His majesty’s large hands clumsily drifted along the lines of Seongwoo’s body. Initially, the concubine tensed, but he quickly relaxed into the other’s dazed explorations. “You certainly do not feel like a cat.”

 

“Oh? What do I feel like, then?” 

 

“Hm…” Daniel pretended to be deep in thought for a few instants. He teasingly squeezed Seongwoo’s thighs, then his chest, as if it had been done in the pursuit of observation. “You feel like… Someone very lovely and adorable.”

 

“Wh- Adorable?!” For some reason, the compliment had taken Ong completely by surprise. He hadn’t been prepared to be regarded with such a term of endearment; he didn’t know how to feel. The concubine chuckled, piecing together his half-asleep response, “It is you who is adorable.”

 

“No,” The King groaned, “I am not adorable.”

 

“I believe you are,” Seongwoo argued. While he stood by his words, he opposed the other mainly to get a small rise out of him. It was enjoyable to him - always had been.

 

“No. I am not,” Daniel huffs, and the air tickles Seongwoo, making him shiver.

 

“I think you are.”

 

“Am not.”

 

“Am- are too.”

 

“You are spreading,” Daniel paused the thought to give Seongwoo a kiss on the back of his head, “Lies.”

 

Seongwoo chuckled. He felt warm. Very warm. It blossomed inside him and surrounded him, wrapped itself around him, sat behind him in a benevolent presence. His thoughts swam, suspended in a pool of drowsy pleasure. The previous night’s tensity had been nearly forgotten; even those events, those feelings, felt far away. Their discomfort dulled in comparison to the overpowering glow exuding from the two. 

 

He didn’t want to leave.

 

With haste, Seongwoo turned onto his other side. In a quick motion he grabbed Daniel’s face and pressed their lips together. He could feel the King’s mouth upturn into a smile, and his majesty returned the kiss gleefully. Their mouths moved lazily; neither possessed any particular urgency or care, likely due to how sleepy they were.

 

Seongwoo reveled in it.

 

Daniel’s nose occasionally bumped the other’s, and sometimes Seongwoo’s lips would miss, catching the edges of the other’s mouth instead of dead center. The breath coming from their noses would tickle the other. Tiny laughs floated out from between them. They slotted their bodies as snugly together as they could manage; Seongwoo looped an arm around Daniel’s neck, and Daniel kept one fixed around Seongwoo’s waist. 

 

Though only for the morning, they lived in that world, the universe in which they could be happy. Simple. Free. 

 

* * *

 

“Can you help me with this lacing?” Daniel’s voice carried into Seongwoo’s room through the partition. 

 

“In a moment!” Seongwoo called back, a fond grin on his face.

 

He wasn’t sure how long they’d stayed in bed, rolling around, kissing, caressing. It had been blissful, but both knew it had to come to an end eventually. Seongwoo had gotten up and out of bed, heading toward his room to dress for the day. Daniel had tugged him by the arm into another kiss which lasted for a duration Ong couldn’t quite surmise. The process had repeated itself a few times: Seongwoo would attempt to break away, dress, get ready, and Daniel would pull him back in with a silly comment or cute gesture. After the third or fourth time, Seongwoo had finally managed to genuinely tear himself away from the other (though not out of a strong desire to do so). 

 

A strange buzz of happiness and melancholy settled into the concubine’s chest as he readied himself. He’d put on black breeches and hooked the closures of his dark leather vest. It suited him, he thought, all black. It suited him more than he liked to think. 

 

Looking in the mirror, a sense of anxiety started growing. His fingers drifted to the collar around his neck. Strange, he thought, how he’d gotten so used to it being there. He scarcely noticed it anymore.

 

He frowned.

 

“ _ Shiff _ .”

 

Seongwoo jumped. The noise was slight, yet familiar. The sliding of something beneath a crack in the door. He froze. Shakily, his pupils moved down toward the floor. A sense of dread quickly filled him to the brim, choking out the residual giddiness with immediacy. Panic seized him.

 

It was a note.

 

Swiftly, Seongwoo leaped across the room, snatching up the folded paper. As expected, it bore no seal. Only a lump of wax held the seal in tact. Typically, he would have regarded the thing carefully; however, with Daniel a short distance away through an open door, he handled it with much more urgency. The concubine flicked a finger between the wax seal and the folded paper. The note sprung open, and he unfolded it rapidly. His eyes scanned the note quickly. He traced and retraced the words multiple times, and a sense of panic started to bubble in his throat. The neat hand only spelled out two words:

 

“ _ Say goodbye. _ ”

 

“Seongwoo?” Daniel’s voice cut through the other’s thoughts. The concubine jumped and pulled the note closer to himself. Thankfully, the King had yet to appear in the partition.

 

“D-Daniel,” He cursed himself internally for betraying his disarray in his tone.

 

Daniel picked up on it, “...Seongwoo? Are you alright?” Footsteps echo between the two rooms, and they quickly grow nearer the partition between them.

 

“Of course I am!” Seongwoo’s eyes blow wide open, and he rushes toward his fireplace, tearing the note in half and tossing it in the general directions of the flame.

 

“Do you need help with something? I- I admit I am not the most adept with lacing-” His majesty’s form could  be heard nearing. “-But perhaps I can help if only slightly.”

 

“No- no, that’s quite alright,” Another bolt of panic pierces Seongwoo’s chest as he realizes that, somehow, he’d missed the fireplace. The note sat plainly a short distance from the crackling flames, as if to taunt him. Ong plucked it off of the floor and threw it in with more fervor.

 

“What are you doing so close to your fire? Are you cold?” Daniel asked, standing at the threshold of their quarters. 

 

Seongwoo nearly choked. Panic froze him, and all he could do was watch the letter shrivel up slowly. Too slowly, in his opinion. His heart pounded, even after the letter had turned into crumbling ash. He stood up slowly.

 

The King advanced slowly, tilting his head in curiosity,“Seongwoo? You’re acting strangel- oof.” His words were halted by an abrupt force colliding with his body.

 

The concubine had nearly thrown himself at the man. He clutched the King’s unlaced doublet with white knuckles and smashed their lips together for an impassioned kiss. Daniel, though baffled, could hardly resist the other, and slowly took the other into his arms. A few minutes passed. While Seongwoo’s anxiety had been curbed, the letter still stuck stubbornly in the back of his mind.

  
When their lips parted, Daniel gave Seongwoo a smile, asking, “What was that all about?” He chuckled.

 

Seongwoo let go of the other. He backed off and gave a shrug, shockingly nonchalant after being almost frantic just instants prior. He gave a lopsided grin and responded.

 

“I felt like it.” 

 

Daniel laughed heartily, his eyes narrowed to slits and his entire face scrunched. It charmed Seongwoo to no end. He nearly managed to dislodge the bitter thoughts that had latched onto his head. Nearly.

 

His majesty, upon coming down from his laughter, looked down at his fine doublet. He’d opted for another dark colored coordinate, though this time he’d opted for a deep magenta color. The patter was much more subtle than his typical, richly patterned brocades. Whirling floral patterns had been embroidered on the cloth in a thread color that matched the textile, creating an interesting impression of the fabric itself being crafted with embossed patterns. The ribbon looped through the eyelets in the front and on the sleeves matched perfectly (though they remained limp, unlaced).

 

“Can you help me with these at the moment or ought I call a servant?” 

 

Seongwoo smiled fondly at the man. Without a word, his fingers started moving, deftly tightening the laces until the doublet fit snugly to the contours of his majesty’s body. 

 

“Thank you,” Daniel muttered as he watched the other’s slender fingers work.

 

“It’s not a problem,” Seongwoo said. “Queen Irene will certainly find you most fetching in this.”

 

“Perhaps she will,” The King said aloofly, “If she is to see me today.”

 

“Hm?” The concubine looked at him puzzledly.

 

“Well, Queen Irene and I had spoken yesterday. We both agreed that today we can spend with- with our loved ones.”

 

“O-oh. Then I suppose you shall have a nice time with General Park and Advisor Yoon,” Seongwoo prayed he did not sound as contemptuous as he felt.

 

“Actually, I wanted to spend it with you.”

 

Seongwoo’s fingers stopped. 

 

“That is if- if you are alright with it. I do not wish to rob you of time with others you are close to, I merely thought-”

 

“Daniel,” The concubine cut him off. Something about saying his name in that moment felt funny. He suddenly recalled how it came about - him calling the man by name. A wave of melancholic nostalgia washed over him, but he stubbornly moved past it to regard the man in front of him. “I would like that very much,” He said.

 

The King smiled, looking relieved, “Excellent! The fireworks handlers always do the most grand show on the final day. You are going to love it.”

 

“I will watch it with you on one condition,” Seongwoo chuckled.

 

“On a condition?”

 

“Yes, a condition.”

 

“Are you trying to negotiate terms of enjoying fireworks with a King?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Daniel chuckled, “Fine, I shall hear your condition. What is it?”

 

“This time, I would prefer not to be in a tree.”

 

“Wh- I thought you liked the tree!”

 

“It- it was a good view, but I do not wish to replicate the experience of climbing the thing. Or getting down.”

 

The King laughed, “Alright. You do not make it easy on me, but I shall oblige your request.”

 

“Thank you,” Ong replied. He tapped Daniel on the chest to indicate that he’d finished lacing him up. Stepping back, he observed his handiwork. The doublet did wonders for the man’s already enviable body. Shamelessly, the concubine let his eyes wander with a combination of admiration and salacious appetite.

 

Daniel smirked, “You’ve just tied everything so neatly. Why do you look at me as if you wish to undo that?” Seongwoo rolled his eyes, heat stinging his cheeks; despite the taunting, he could not help but smile. Boyish, he thought.

 

“Begone,” Seongwoo said, playfully shoving the other toward his own bedchamber, “I must finish readying myself and I cannot suffer any further distraction.”

 

“But you look ready to me,” The King snickered, feigning fighting back. 

 

“Well, I am not, so off with you!” Seongwoo waved the man away, even shutting the door halfway.

 

“It was jest!” Daniel called through the opening.

 

“Hush and pet the cats!” Ong called back with a laugh.

 

“Fine,” His majesty comically huffed. After a few moments, things went quiet.

 

Seongwoo’s shoulders sagged with relief. He rushed to his sitting table by the window, upon which sat books, paper, a quill, ink, and a few other writing implements. Eyes darting between the opening between their rooms and the tabletop, the concubine began scribbling a letter quickly.

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo had never held a particular affinity for Castle Jeon. Since entering its walls, he’d associated the place with oppression, shame, and the heinous acts committed by members of its court. Though he ceded that the structure was mighty and grand, he had no particular fondness for the place.

 

The gardens, however, elicited a different feeling for him.

 

Even knowing that he could not leave its boundaries, the place filled him with a sense of peace. Despite being captive, being outdoors gave him a miniscule sense of freedom. Fresh air filled his lungs and the smell of grass and earth filled his nostrils. He relished in it. During festival time, an assortment of other aromas, sounds, and sights accompanied the otherwise calm expanse. The rich showcase of diverse wares and vivid life only added to his growing fondness for the space.

 

Though he abhorred admitting it, he knew he would miss it.

 

“Seongwoo,” A voice cut through the concubine’s reflections. Ong blinked, turning to King Daniel. “You’ve done it again.”

 

The two had been walking the festival throughout the morning. King Daniel had made a visit to a few monks, giving sizeable donations to their monasteries. He’d chatted with the bishop and the two had even stood aside to watch a surprise performance from a group of foreign performers. Overall, the morning had been incredibly pleasant; it prompted Seongwoo to daydream about how life could be in another world, another time. In his contemplations, he’d gotten distracted more than once throughout the morn.

 

“Apologies,” Seongwoo frowned, “I truly do not intend it. I just… There is much to take in.” Guilt struck him, ill feelings accusing him of wasting precious time with Daniel.

 

“There is no need to say sorry. I just… Worry. Are you sure everything is alright?” The King’s attentiveness simultaneously twisted and swelled the concubine’s heart.

 

“I promise you, everything is fine.”

 

Before the two could lapse into any further conversation, a commotion erupted across the clearing. Awed commoners scurried toward the edge of the plot, gazing pointedly at a group of people passing through.

 

Queen Irene and her gaggle of ladies glided delicately across the lawn. Common admirers trailed slightly behind, watching in awe. Behind the Queen of the Bae Empire each lady followed in orderly two by two formation, as if choreographed. They leaned over to one another, chatting gayly and laughing among themselves.

 

Without warning, Daniel laced his fingers with Seongwoo’s and began pulling him in the opposite direction, “Come along, we ought to see more.”

 

“I- Hm?” Ong did not necessarily dislike the proposition, but the haste of it came as a surprise. “So soon?”

 

“We needn’t dawdle. You helped plan this entire affair, surely you need not drink in every detail-”

 

“This would not happen to involve Queen Irene’s presence in any way, would it?”

 

Daniel’s grip weakened momentarily; he looked at Ong with a frown, “Must you question this now?”

 

As the King and his concubine began moving, something caught Seongwoo’s eye. More precisely, someone.

 

“If you wish to avoid her, it is too late. We’ve been spotted.”

 

His majesty’s shoulders sagged slightly, and he let go of Seongwoo’s hand. The two turned toward the Queen and her attendants, ready to initiate an uncomfortably formal and polite conversation. Though Queen Irene had, in fact, spotted them, she made no move to approach. However, someone did.

 

The youngest among them lifted her skirt and trotted toward King Daniel and his ward. Seongwoo watched her grow closer with growing curiosity. The King, if he had had any particularly pressing thoughts, did not betray them. His majesty greeted his subject with a warm smile when she reached them.

 

Countess Yeri presented herself with a deep curtsey, greeting his majesty first, “My King.” She kept her gaze fixed downwards.

 

King Daniel nodded, signaling that the girl could stand upright once more, “Countess Yerim, good afternoon. Are you well?” Yeri’s eyes widened at the King’s genial regard. The two had never spoken. She’d only ever admired the man from afar (something Seongwoo had listened to her speak of often). 

 

“Y-yes, quite. A-and greetings to you, too, Seongwoo,” The girl stuttered out. Ong had never seen the girl so bashful before. It quite amused him.

 

The concubine bowed, giving the noble girl a curt and proper salutation, “Good afternoon, Countess. 

 

Countess Yeri eyed Seongwoo pointedly, then King Daniel. Her pupils alternated between the two rapidly, her uncertainty with how to advance visible on her face. His majesty picked up on the nonverbal cues and gave the countess and his concubine a polite nod.

 

“I wish to speak with Queen Irene, so I shall excuse myself,” He said. The other two mumbled out courteous statements of dismissal, bowing in his wake. The moment King Daniel left earshot, Yeri turned to speak to Seongwoo.

 

“You,” Was all she initially said.

 

Seongwoo’s eyebrows raised, “Me?”

 

Yeri nodded, “You.”

 

“Yes it is I.”

 

“I- I know it is I- you. You are you. It is you,” The young noble fumbled over her words.

 

“While I commend your courage for approaching his majesty and I, did you do so just to practice grammar?”

 

“N-no,” Yeri’s lips pressed together and she crossed her arms. Her eyes did not quite meet Seongwoo’s, which struck the man as rather odd.

 

“To be frank, I am quite surprised you left the side of your posse. You all make quite the group, really. It’s as if you were arranged deliberately to be with one another-”

 

“Seongwoo, please.”

 

Ong snapped his mouth shut. Suddenly, he felt worry trickle into his veins.

 

“I- I am trying to tell you something. It’s- it’s really important, alright, and I ask that you not cast your doubts on it too hastily. Please, just- just listen.”

 

Wide-eyed, the concubine obliged, muttering, “I’m listening.”

 

The countess twiddled her thumbs, and her pupils scurried about. Her actions baffled Ong. Yeri had never been one to act reserved, let alone shy. He wondered what bothered her to the degree that it made her visibly nervous.

 

“Yeri, what is it?” The concubine asked, concerned. He bit his lower lip anxiously. Imagining the girl in some sort of trouble gave him a great deal of worry. With his status, he knew he could do little to help her. His mind whirred with terrible scenarios when she finally spoke.

 

“Seongwoo,” She grasped one of the concubine’s hands. Looking in his eyes earnestly, she confessed, “I am going to be leaving Castle Jeon shortly.”

 

Ong’s eyes went wide, and he let out a sigh of relief, “You- you are?” It took a few additional moments for his thoughts to completely catch up with her words. “Wait- You are leaving? This- this isn’t due to some sort of trouble, is it? Are your parents calling you back? Is someone courting you?”

 

Yeri shook her head; she gave the older brother figure a bittersweet smile, “No, none of that. I am taking up a… A new role of my life. I have been offered a spot beside Queen Irene as a lady in waiting, and I… I have given it some thought. Truly, I have. The message has been sent to my parents, and I’m a young lady, so they cannot tell me no! I know this may seem sudden, and- and- I’ve known them all for such a short amount of time, yet-”

 

“Stop,” Seongwoo cut her off. Part of his soul ached at how much he would miss the girl, but the majority of his heart swelled with relief. Yeri would be in good hands with the Bae court; at least, no worse hands than she had been in Castle Jeon. She’d never quite gotten on well with anyone at the Kang court to Seongwoo’s knowledge, and always craved more out of her life. Surely a life as a lady-in-waiting would provide that. He felt happy for her. “You needn’t justify this decision to me. I can tell you are happy with them. You look as if you belong with them, like you were meant to be together.”

 

“I- I am glad to hear that,” Wet tears filled Yeri’s eyes, but she stubbornly kept them from falling. The girl grinned widely, her voice stuttering slightly as she continued speaking, “I… This is a life I had only dreamed of. I’ve much to learn, but I believe with them at my side I shall be capable.”

 

“You will be more than just capable,  _ Lady  _ Yeri.”

 

Yeri sniffled. She launched herself at Seongwoo, and the man opened his arms readily. He squeezed the young girl tight, not caring if anyone thought them being indecent. Knowing that Yeri was going to move on made him feel somehow lighter. A wetness on the concubine’s shoulders informed him that the girl had been unable to keep her tears back indefinitely. Hotness rushed to his own eyes because of it.

 

“I expect a proper send off, alright?” The girl said between sniffles. They separated, each immediately reaching to wipe their dripping eyes and noses. “There will be a gathering of sorts, I am certain. When the Queen- when  _ my  _ Queen leaves - we will have a right goodbye, won’t we?”

 

Seongwoo’s face scrunched, and he feared another wave of sobs would overtake him, “Of course,” He squeaked out. Taking a deep breath, the concubine blinked his eyes closed. He allowed a few seconds to pass in order to collect himself before opening them again. Once again, he repeated his words, this time with less apparent thickness in his tone, “Of course. I cannot express how absolutely thrilled I am that you will leave this place with them.”

 

“Thank you for being a dear, Seongwoo,” Yeri said. She gave the concubine’s hand another exceptionally hardy squeeze. 

 

“Thank you for being a friend,” He replied with an endeared smile. “Now go,” the concubine waved toward Queen Irene and her other ladies in waiting, “those ladies have known her majesty for years. You have some catching up to do, haven’t you?”

 

“I suppose you’re right,” Yeri nodded with a smile. She backed away slowly, letting her fingers remain in contact with Seongwoo’s until only the very tips of them scarcely grazed his. The young lady-in-waiting parted her lips as if she wanted to say something, some last goodbye or perhaps a quintessential quip. However, she closed them instead. The noble girl gave the concubine one last warm smile before turning around to approach her new companions.

 

Seongwoo’s eyes lingered on the girl, watching her form shrink in the distance. Her feet shuffled quickly with excitement as she neared the others. He saw her do a small leap upon reaching the ladies in waiting, and they all exchanged excited expressions. Though the man could not hear their words, taking their faces into consideration he assumed they were quite excited to have her. It made him happy and proud. Not many things had gone right during his time at Castle Jeon, but he could genuinely say that his friendship with Yeri was one thing that had.

 

Eventually, Queen Irene and her ladies turned a corner and left view completely. It was shortly after then when another form approached the concubine from behind.

 

“Did you have a nice chat?” Daniel asked, taking Seongwoo’s side. 

 

Seongwoo nodded; he hoped that his face did not betray the tears that had fallen just minutes prior.

 

“Yes. And you?”

 

“Of course. Queen Irene is good company.” The King’s amicable grin faltered slightly.

 

“I am sure she is,” Seongwoo’s lips pressed into a thin line. Awkward silence hung in the air for a few moments, needling the concubine excruciatingly. He despised his own pettiness and how the mere mention of Queen Irene caused his brain to temporarily shut down. Though he could easily discern why, truly acknowledging it caused such internal humiliation that he refused.

 

Daniel broke the silence (much to the concubine’s relief), “She is, but… I much prefer yours.” He gave the other a cheeky grin. Seongwoo wanted to roll his eyes; instead, his body reacted by tinting his ears a pale hue of pink.

 

* * *

 

“Jung Eunji?” A uniformed messenger extended the head maid a letter on a silver tray.

 

Eunji, accompanied by her closest comrades, stirred. The three had taken a comfortable seat at the edge of a fountain. Festival time was a joyous occasion, but typically by day three the majority of festivalgoers were rather fatigued. People spend their final hours lazing about before the grandiose fireworks show of the evening. 

 

“That… That is I,” Eunji replies, cocking an eyebrow in confusion. The messenger addressed her primly, his poise nothing but the utmost professional and formal. It wasn’t a manner she was used to. Dubiously, the head maid reached for the sealed letter. Namjoo and Hayoung immediately leaned in to get a look of their own. 

 

They hardly noticed the messenger dismissing himself, all intently eyeing the note Eunji had received instead.

 

“Have you got an admirer?” Hayoung asked with a gasp.

 

“Miss Eunji! How have you kept this secret for such a long time?” Namjoo asked, grabbing Eunji’s sleeve.

 

“I cannot believe that you will get married and have children before us!” Hayoung pouted.

 

Eunji’s face scrunched into a look of confusion,“I am older than you two…”

 

“That is it! We truly are destined to be old maids!” Namjoo wailed dramatically, letting her head fall into Eunji’s lap. Hayoung mirrored the gesture, leaving space for nothing else on the head maid’s lap. She sighed, rolling her eyes.

 

“Are you two quite finished?”

 

“Our lives are finished,” Namjoo pouted.

 

“Oh, stop the dramatics. I imagine there are other Eunjis at the castle and it, and I- Oh! Hm.” The head maid’s tone changes upon reading the sender’s name.

 

“Hm? ‘Hm’ what? What is it?” Namjoo’s head shot up, and her skull nearly crashed into Eunji’s chin.

 

Hayoung quickly followed, sitting upright (though more carefully than Namjoo),“God in heaven it is a suitor! Eunji-”

 

“Stop it, both of you. It is just from our dear friend Seongwoo.”

  
“Seongwoo?” “Oh! Seongwoo’s sent you a note?” “Where is my note from Seongwoo?” “I knew you were his favorite!” “Is he courting you? Miss Eunji are you two-”

 

“Are you two quite done yet?” The head maid asked, crossing her arms. Hayoung and Namjoo exchanged impish looks, continuing:

 

“So how long have you two been seeing each other?” “Does he visit you at night?” “What does he look like naked?” “His feet are not particularly large, so one must figure…” “I can’t believe Eunji is the one who gets to be Seongwoo’s secret lover!” “I wish I had a secret lover- or a not so secret lover-”

 

“Actually, I have changed my mind. You two are no longer allowed to finish chattering like oafish birds. I am sure it is some innocent correspondence. Perhaps something regarding post-festival logistics,” Eunji gestured to the side of the sealed note that had been written on. In large lettering, it stated:

 

“DO NOT OPEN UNTIL AFTER THE FESTIVAL”

 

“Hell, it could be a thank you note. He owes me after I accompanied him to that god awful theater riot on the first day.”

 

“Oh,” Namjoo’s grin faltered. “That’s no fun.”

 

“Can you not indulge us even once? Once?” Hayoung said facetiously.

 

“What? So you can spread more baseless rumors for the fun of it?”

 

“Precisely!” “Yes!”

 

Eunji could not help laughing. Her girls were not always the pinnacle of sophistication or maturity, but they were fun. Most importantly: they were authentically themselves. Be they behaving as proper ladies or chugging ale in the cellars with the stable hands, they always owned their actions. She liked to believe that, in some way, it was a trait the two had learned from her.

 

“Perhaps that nice fortune teller fellow can give you two material to work with. I am sure that us three are not the only who came to his tent only to gossip for half an hour!” Eunji laughed.

 

“We gossipped, got free tea, and readings. You musn’t forget the readings!” Namjoo said.

  
“Oh yes, that’s right. I got- what was it… A cat?”

 

“Yes! Hayoung got a snake and I got, er- an arrow!”

 

“I can’t rightly say I believe in all of that stuff, but he brewed a mean cup of tea.”

 

Namjoo and Hayoung stood up quickly, their afternoon plans laid out in haste. They each extended an arm to Eunji to help pull her away from her spot on the fountain. The head maid slipped the letter in her apron. Seongwoo had not intended for it to be opened until later, regardless; so, Eunji and her girls skipped off in pursuit of their last few hours of (relative) freedom before work consumed their lives once more.

 

* * *

 

General Park Jihoon slung an arm around his concubine’s shoulder, hugging him more closely. The two took rest beneath the canopy of a tree after enjoying the festival sights. Guanlin had enjoyed spending the last day of celebrations beside his Master. At least, he’d told himself he did.

 

The chick cuddled closer to his Master, resting his head on the man’s shoulder. He genuinely did appreciate being in the man’s presence, being allowed to spend time with him. However, something stubbornly gnawed at the back of his mind. Try as he might, he could not shake the vague feeling of illness: the anxiety.

 

Conversation throughout the day had felt forced, and he’d been choking on his words. Affections were underlined with hesitance and even suspicion. The conversation Guanlin had had with Seongwoo had tangled his thoughts into unkempt knots. Ideas and impressions jostled about, refusing to right themselves or straighten out. It nearly suffocated the young concubine. Worst of all, Jihoon hardly seemed to notice.

 

Guanlin hated Seongwoo.

 

No, that wasn’t quite right, he thought. He did not hate Seongwoo at all. The man had been like a brother to him. He’d patiently sat by on many an afternoon and aided him in his studies. He had celebrated in his improvements and successes while encouraging him when he struggled. Perhaps, Guanlin thought, that was why he had hurt so badly. He admired Seongwoo, perhaps even aspired to be like him in some ways.

 

The young concubine asked himself: what would Seongwoo do? Would Seongwoo accept what he was being told readily? Would he truly question no further, taking things as they were?

 

Guanlin knew the answer to that was a resounding “no”. He appreciated what his Master had done for him, genuinely so. However, as time ran by, he grew increasingly concerned for his status with his Master. For his own wellbeing. Though Master doted on him enduringly, the man had seem distracted as of late. Unwell, even. Guanlin had thought it due to an affair with Seongwoo, but his older brother had told him that it was not true. He trusted Seongwoo sincerely in that, which left him to wonder about General Park. He felt almost treacherous questioning his Master, but he could not help his mind from wandering.

 

“Master,” Guanlin said, his voice no softer than the peep of a chick.

 

“Hm? Yes, Guanlin?” Jihoon’s head turned to the other, tilted in curiosity.

 

“I… Have something to ask you.”

 

“Well, ask as you wish. You know I am always happy to listen to your concerns.”

 

“Yes, well,” Guanlin straightened up slightly. His heart hammered in his chest with nerves; it dawned on him that he had never asked his Master any “serious” questions before. They’d always spoken of rather lighthearted things. Hopes, dreams, fantasies, fun things. Never had they had to have what one would consider a “hard” discussion. Guanlin realized that he was going to incite the first. He wondered if it would be the last. 

 

“Master I- I notice you- you-” He stuttered. Clasping his hands tightly in his lap, Guanlin braced himself as he spat out his thoughts, “You observe Seongwoo rather closely. Whereas I- I feel as if I have been given less and less regard as of late. Are you fond of him?” He looked his Master in the eyes pointedly.

 

General Park’s face transformed rapidly into various looks ranging from confusion, humor, bafflement, and shock. He visibly struggled to choose words in response to the complicated question; worry weighed heavily on Guanlin’s shoulder as he looked on, biting his lip nervously.

 

“No,” Was the first thing General Park said. “God-  _ No _ . Guanlin, I- I am- What would ever give you such an impression?”

 

“I- I see you staring at him so intensely at- at occasions and parties. Even when you spoke you looked… Heated.”

 

“Guanlin, you are mistaken. He and I have absolutely nothing of the sort going on between us. I adore you,” Jihoon cupped the other’s face, caressing a cheek with this thumb. The younger boy desired to melt into the gesture, to close the gap and kiss his Master, pretending it never happened; instead, he stayed resolute.

 

“You have not been acting like you adore me. Not when your eyes fall so heavily on the King and his concubine. I feel as if- as if I am no longer enough.”

 

“Guanlin, please do not think so lowly of yourself. I apologize if my work has given some false indication of unfaithfulness,” The General cooed, “It is my duty to protect the King first and foremost, to keep a careful eye on him and those close to him.”

 

“Was it your duty to kiss his concubine?” The question came down like an executioner’s axe, snapping the air in half. 

 

Jihoon’s shoulders sagged, and his hands dropped from Guanlin’s cheeks. He studied his ward’s face carefully, once again taking pause to choose his words.

 

“You misunderstand the situation,” The General’s eyes shied away from the other’s fervent gaze.

 

“What is there to misunderstand? I saw plain as day, you in- in his arms. Yet you say you hold no affection for him, so- so why? Is it because you wanted- you wanted-” Guanlin’s body shuddered, and he held down a sob determinedly, “You wanted a man to warm your bed?”

 

“Guanlin, no-”

 

“Am I not enough? Do you- do you seek someone more mature? More experienced? Is it because he is smarter than I am? Or- or-”

 

“You are speaking nonsense. I do  _ not  _ hold him in such esteem. We were having a- a gentleman’s disagreement.”

 

The concubine shook his head in disbelief, “Do you truly think so lowly of me that I would believe such a thing?” The General’s statement galled him. Perhaps he would have taken the explanation in giddy haste before, but he no longer felt so inclined to take Master’s words without thought. He wanted to be loved, not lied to.

 

“There are some things I do not expect you to understand. It is best that way. Just know that my feelings for you are true, and-”

 

“Of course I will not understand anything if you merely write me off.”

 

“Guanlin you are just a boy. I do not want to burden you with- with downtrodden political struggles.”

 

“I am a ‘boy’ because you insist so! You do not allow me to do anything that lets me feel like- like a man! I cannot spar or hunt, and you won’t even- even-”

 

“I do not want you to feel like a man! I want you to feel like yourself and to treasure your youth.”

 

“My youth? You are few years older than I.”

 

“And I would not wish for you to ever experience what I had in the same amount of years. I want to protect you from that! From- from the warfare and despair and everything. I want you to be carefree, happy-”

 

“Protect me?” Guanlin stood up and laughed wryly. He felt if something had pulled the air out of his lungs. He didn’t know what to say, what to feel. Warmth trickled down his face. Tears. Unparalleled bitterness needled him like an iron maiden, stabbing him from all sides. Each spike of pain dissolved, leaving numbness in its wake.

 

“It’s far too late for that.” He said.

 

Without another word, he walked off. He had no particular direction, just: away. As the distance grew, he heard yells, muffled, behind him. His Master called out his name, but he did not answer. He just kept walking until, eventually, the man’s yelling ceased.

 

* * *

 

“Your majesty!” A voice calls to King Daniel and Seongwoo from a short distance. The two turn to see Princes Daehwi and Jinyoung arm in arm. It never failed to surprise Seongwoo how dramatically different Prince Jinyoung looked beside Prince Daehwi. While he did not pretend to know the boy intimately, his entire being seemed to lift in the other’s presence. He felt glad that at least one of the nobles present seemed to be enjoying the Baes’ visit.

 

King Daniel and Seongwoo each gave a polite smile and wave. The concubine leaned to whisper to Daniel, smile stretched across his face.

 

“Do we have to go over there?”

 

“Had it been only my cousin I would have said no, but Prince Jinyoung is there,” Daniel kept his jovial mask on as well.

 

“Oh, joy,” Seongwoo replied, watching the other two walk closer. 

 

The King and his concubine met the other two halfway across the relatively calm clearing of the gardens. It wasn’t one lined with many tents, and only a few workers and commoners milled about. 

 

“Good afternoon, your majesty,” Prince Daehwi greeted his cousin with a bow. Jinyoung mimicked the formality. His face appeared to be in a pinched pouting expression as he regarded the two. Seongwoo started to question if the boy legitimately pouted or if he merely appeared that way. Permanently. He supposed he couldn’t fault him if his tiny face just naturally appeared vexed. Still, he couldn’t help recalling the conversation he’d overheard him have with his sister. Seongwoo realized, it was none of his business or concern, and tried to discard the thought.

 

“You two have had a splendid festival, I hope?” Daehwi asked.

 

Seongwoo nodded, and Daniel answered, “Yes, it has been blessed. We are fortunate to have spent most of it in the company of our esteemed guests,” He looked pointedly at Jinyoung. The foreign Prince gave a smile. Or, well, an attempt at one. It looked entirely too pressed to be real, but Seongwoo had quickly learned to expect very little of the boy’s acting skills.

 

“It is an honor to be here, your majesty. Castle Jeon and its grounds are quite impressive. Your Kingdom is very rich and diverse.”

 

“Well, it is due to a century of efforts on the part of my predecessors that we can boast such greatness. It is my duty to assure its security and pass it on to the next generation.”

 

“So you do plan on having heirs?” Jinyoung asked bluntly. Seongwoo’s eyes widened, and he stared openly at the foreign prince. King Daniel forced out a chuckle.

 

Prince Daehwi laughed, “I have learned firsthand that it is the culture in the Bae Empire to be rather frank in speaking, is it not?”

 

The other prince’s pupils flitted from King Daniel down to the ground and he nodded, “Y-yes. I apologize your majesty. We do customarily speak quite directly where I am from. I am still learning to… To curb this habit around your people.”

 

“He told a commoner that the actor she so devoutly followed from one of those travelling bands was mediocre. Nearly got his head bitten off,” Daehwi giggled.

 

Shockingly, Jinyoung laughed, too; he looked at the other brightly, “Thankfully your kind Prince here rescued me.” His tone noticeably warmed, and with a genuine smile, the boy looked truly captivating. “It is quite interesting. I am rather pathetic with words and prose, yet he- he is so good with them.”

 

“I told you: you must merely redirect the conversation and point out some common adversary. Then you can bond over hatred!” 

 

“That would make an interesting subject for a poem, wouldn’t it?” Jinyoung grinned.

 

King Daniel stood aside politely as the two chattered back and forth. Seongwoo watched with wide eyes. Something about the sight in front of him struck him as profoundly strange. Endearing, but strange. At a distance, the two just seemed an odd pair. Poetic, contemplative Daehwi beside blunt and brooding Jinyoung; one would never have thought the two would work with one another so perfectly.

Daniel politely responded,“Well, I am glad to hear you two have had a wonderful time. Thank you, Prince, for extending such excellent hospitality to our guest.”

 

“It is my pleasure,” Daehwi said. “The festival is absolutely magical this year. I am so glad that we can all enjoy it this way. I hope you two find a good spot for viewing the grand finale.”

 

Daniel eyed Seongwoo for a second before returning his gaze to the Prince, “I believe I know a good place, yes.” He smiled. “And you?”

 

“Oh, we’re all poised and ready for the big finish,” Daehwi clapped happily, “I can’t believe it is almost over. Soon we’ll have to say goodbye to all of this,” He gestured around dramatically. Once again, it dawned on Ong how funny it was that Jinyoung had been so attracted to Daehwi. The Kang Prince took his companion by the hand, waving at the King and his ward with his free one. “Well, we don’t wish to take too much of your time. We’re off to play some games. Perhaps we shall see you in the lawn for the fireworks?”

 

“Perhaps you will,” Daniel replied, waving. The two Princes skipped off jubilantly without another word. Seongwoo’s gaze remained fixed on the two, perplexed.

 

“They make an interesting pair, don’t they?” Daniel mused, elbowing his concubine.

 

“Yes. That is… A word you can use to describe them.”

 

“Almost as interesting as the young King and the miscreant concubine.”

 

“Wh- Miscreant? Surely there is more flattering language one could use to describe me. At least say criminal. Or villainous.”

 

“Hm… Malicious?”

 

“Reprehensible.”

 

“Nefarious.”

 

“Perverse.”

 

“Wh- No, I don’t like perverse.”

 

Daniel chuckled, “Alright, we shall strike that from the list, then. Still… I am glad to see my cousin so happy. It’s the most happy I have seen him since, well… Since Somi passed.”

 

Seongwoo’s gleeful expression immediately dropped; he swallowed nervously, “Does he? That’s… That’s good.” He nodded, “That’s good. I’m glad for him- that he is happy. And… And what of you?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“W-well, are you happy?” Seongwoo had wanted to misdirect the question in an attempt to make the conversation less uncomfortable. He accomplished precisely the opposite.

 

“O-oh,” Daniel’s tone faltered slightly, “W-well… Yes. Yes I am.”

 

His words said “yes”, yet Seongwoo couldn’t help but believe the opposite. It only pulled his heart further toward the ground. Tension formed around them, like an oppressive bubble.

 

“We ought to go,” A fervent whisper broke the quiet between the two, uttered by Daniel.

 

Seongwoo quirked an eyebrow, “What? Wh-why?” He followed the direction of Daniel’s gaze, and his eyes found Duke Choi with his companion, JR. Surely, Duke Hwang was not far behind from the man who appeared to be his closest ally.

 

“God, you’re right. Quick- quick around that hedge! So they can’t see us,” Seongwoo instructed. Daniel nodded, following the other’s advice. The King and his ward  - as any respectable pair of people would - quickly snuck away from the potential of social interaction with people they hated.

 

* * *

 

People clapped in rhythm as musicians plucked out an upbeat tune on their stringed instruments. Dancers stood opposite one another in two parallel lines, hopping to the beat. They came together, rotating around one another, stepping in time, before going to the opposite side. King Daniel and Seongwoo had been pulled into the gay galliard for a few minutes with a few other members of nobility. They leapt gracefully, switching partners and performing the steps with ease. Onlookers watched, incredibly pleased to see their own King so comfortable among his people.

 

Indeed, King Daniel looked the picture of majestic joy. A wide smile graced his features and he regarded his subjects with authentic fondness. Seongwoo adored that about the man. Whether intentional or not, he nearly always wore his intentions on his sleeves. He projected only as much care as necessary when dealing with others, not being ingenuine. When he did feel true joy, he expressed it, and it radiated off of him in a way that made it contagious. Seongwoo thought that, by that point, the man’s kindness ought to stop coming to him as a surprise. Yet it still did. He tried not to let his thoughts trail off too much and focused on enjoying the moment.

 

The musicians concluded their tune, and Seongwoo bowed to the lady with whom he’d been dancing. Those who had been watching clapped happily. The concubine gave a few courteous utterances of gratefulness before removing himself from the line. Daniel had made a move to follow, but more nobles happened upon them, demanding his majesty join them for another dance. The King gave Seongwoo an apologetic look, mouthing out “one more”. Ong nodded in response, perfectly content with watching the man do a single dance in addition.

 

Seongwoo found a spot toward the edge of the garden clearing. He clapped along as the musicians took up their bows once more. Someone else approached his side, doing the same. The two people looked on in silence before Seongwoo cared enough to glance at the person.

 

He stopped clapping, and his heart sunk.

 

“Oh, spare the dramatics. You needn’t stop on my account,” General Park said, not looking at the concubine. 

 

Seongwoo eyed the man suspiciously. Though not initially obvious, something about the man was clearly off. It took Seongwoo far too long to realize what it was. His brows furrowed when it came to him.

 

“Where is Guanlin?”

 

The question caused Jihoon to stop clapping for a moment. He blinked, visibly swallowing. With a sigh, he resumed clapping. He kept time with the song as he spoke.

 

“I don’t know,” The General sounded strangely resigned; defeated, almost.

 

“Oh. With Seonho, then?” Seongwoo’s tone perked up at the thought.

 

“I don’t know,” General Park said again, a frown befalling his cute features.

 

It struck Ong as rather peculiar, and he looked at the other carefully, “You don’t know? Haven’t you got guards keeping an eye on him or something of the sort?” He snickered.

 

The General rolled his eyes, “By all means, gloat. First King Daniel, now my very own Guanlin. It seems you are determined to infect those closest to me with your lunacy. It is only fair I concede defeat before I, too, am converted.”

 

“You- what?” Seongwoo snorted.

 

“Any decent tactician knows when to admit defeat, and I am defeated. You win,” Jihoon threw his hands up, “I give up. You’ve taken his majesty’s heart and have successfully forged a rift between Guanlin and I. Congratulations.” Venom dripped from his voice.

 

“I- Need I remind you-” Seongwoo lowered his voice, leaning in, “-it was  _ you  _ who kissed me?”

 

“That is not the point.”

 

“You are right, that is not. You’ve smothered that boy and he’s finally grown tired of it. That is the point.”

 

“You are entitled to hold whatever deluded, uninformed view you want.”

 

“General, may I ask something?”

 

“When have you ever asked my permission for anything?”

 

“A fair point. I simply am curious as to why you insist on being in my presence if you cannot stand me? I plainly do not like you. What benefit does this serve, torturing ourselves?”

 

“In all honesty, I- I hope that one day you and I can, perhaps… Be civil. You and I are both close to King Daniel-”

 

“One significantly moreso than the other.”

 

“ _ -And _ I believe it would be best if we could manage being in one another’s presence. Without strangling one another, that is. Or yelling obscenities.”

 

“Or drunkenly kissing the other.”

 

“Or being generally insufferable and provocative.”

 

“Well, how big of you, General. What is this about? Truly? Is this some ploy for you to get your precious Guanlin back using me as a tool?”

 

“I give up. I could tell you my hair is brown, and you would look me in the face saying you don’t believe it.”

 

“There are plenty of substances one can concoct to alter the color of their hair-”

 

“I cannot believe Guanlin looks up to a prick like you.”

 

“He- he looks up to me?” The mention of Guanlin soured Seongwoo’s thoughts. Initially, it had brought him pleasure knowing the boy had left the other’s side. However, it had never occurred to Seongwoo to question: why? Putting pieces together, he concluded that the two must have had a falling out. Despite how much Ong hated General Park, it was plain knowledge that Guanlin adored him. For the boy to wrest himself away from the man’s side, during such a vibrant, joyful event no less, something rather dire must have happened. Seongwoo’s heart sunk.

 

“Don’t let it swell your head. Guanlin can exhibit questionable judgement at times.”

 

“Trust me, I am aware,” Seongwoo purposely looked the other up and down.

 

An awkward silence filled the space between them. They resumed clapping to the rhythm and watched Daniel bounce along happily. Seongwoo could not help sneaking a few glances at General Park. For some incredibly peculiar reason, guilt came over him. He did not feel bad for directing malice at Jihoon, but for how Guanlin and Daniel had managed to be tangled up in it. Though not explicitly, both Seongwoo and Jihoon fought, and those two had always managed to be dragged into it in some manner or another. General Park lamented Guanlin’s admiration of the older concubine; Ong wondered if he knew that the chick refused to look at him. Would he have come offering an olive branch of sorts had he known?

 

An olive branch.

 

Seongwoo suddenly felt very small. Their past conversations flew through his head, and another wave of guilt befell him. General Park had, in a way, offered a sort of extension of peace. He did not insist that they be friendly, nor delude the other into believing they could be allies or like one another. All he had wanted was civility, for them to lay down their swords. He’d even refrained from using his typical array of demeaning names. And what had Ong done? Needled him and provoked him. By no means had General Park been nice, but he had at least made some sort of effort. Perhaps it was a charade, but there was most certainly a chance that it was not. Guanlin had broken away from his side, and Daniel’s attentions were elsewhere. Maybe seeing those he adored drifting away had shaken the man.

 

The concubine, if only due to his pridefulness, decided he would not let Jihoon walk away the bigger man. Coughing forcedly, he broke the strange air between them with words of weak consolation.

 

“He will not speak to me, either,” Seongwoo said.

 

General Park turned to look at him, brows raised in surprise; he took pause for a few instants before responding, “I see. I… I suppose we ought to give him time… Space. Pray he doesn’t get himself in trouble during his fit of rebelliousness.”

 

Seongwoo frowned, “I will do everything I can to make sure he is safe.”

 

General Park chuckled, “Isn’t that the sort of thing you would criticize me for saying?”

 

“Right,” Ong forced out a laugh of his own, “Maybe so.”

 

“Curious how things change, isn’t it.”

 

“Quite.”

 

“No matter how tightly we hold on, wanting things to remain as they are, time waits for no one,” General Park mused aloud, almost as if he’d forgotten Seongwoo stood by his side.

 

For once, he agreed with the General. However, the utter shock at the man’s surprisingly poetic take sewed Seongwoo’s mouth shut. The statement knocked on the concubine’s heart, leading his gaze to the King once more.

 

The string instruments ceased, and another round of applause erupted around the lines of people dancing. After polite words of blessings and dismissal, King Daniel waded his way through the crowd toward his concubine and longtime friend. Daniel quirked an eyebrow at first, taken aback by what he saw. General Park and Seongwoo stood side by side in relative peace. Neither shot the other dirty looks, nor did they appear to be in the midst of a heated argument. Jihoon’s typical disdain for the other could not be detected in his gaze.

 

“Your majesty!” General Park greeted the King as he neared.

 

“Master,” Seongwoo gave a proprietary bow.

 

“I apologize, I got caught in another dance. General Park, it is nice to see you. Have you been here long? I’m sorry, I just noticed you were here. I would have said hello earlier.”

 

Jihoon shook his head, giving a polite smile. Seongwoo couldn’t help noticing something different in the way he looked at the King. His eyes lacked the twinkle that typically appeared at the King’s presence. It made him curious.

 

“You needn’t worry. I am glad to have caught you, but I am just passing through.”

 

“Oh? Where is- is your ward?”

 

Jihoon’s courteous smile cracked ever so slightly, “I believe he is spending time with one of his performer friends. We are to reconvene for dinner shortly, so, if I may.”

 

“Of course. Have a good dinner, General.”

 

“Thank you, and god bless you two as well.” The General quickly bounded off after his dismissal. His stocky form disappeared in the crowd quickly. Seongwoo had little more time to reflect on their conversation - their most civil one yet.

 

“Curious. His concubine is always at his side,” Daniel observed. He started walking vaguely in the direction of Castle Jeon, and Seongwoo followed.

 

“Well, Guanlin - that is his name - he is rather young. I’m sure he wanted to run around with some people his age.”

 

“General Park is his age.”

 

“General Park acts twice his age.”

 

“It is precisely that: an act. He’s truly a sweet person in private.”   
  


Ong labored to keep the look of disgust he so badly wanted to wear from his face. The last thing he wanted to hear during his limited time with Daniel was about how “sweet” Jihoon was. Let alone “in private”. 

 

“People are full of surprises, aren’t they?” 

 

“Yes…” Daniel said. Something about his tone sounded strange. Off. Unsettled, perhaps? Ong narrowed his eyes, suspect, but did not say anything. Suddenly, his majesty took hold of his concubine’s hand and began walking faster.

 

“Speaking of surprises, follow me,” He looked over to Seongwoo mischievously, leading him through the gardens with haste.

 

“W-well, I hardly have any choice!” Ong laughed, his feet struggling to keep up with the other’s increasingly long strides.

 

* * *

 

Daniel and Seongwoo’s giggles echoed off of the Castle Jeon corridor. Seongwoo recognized the hall very well; it was the that lead right to the King’s quarters. He questioned if Daniel had truly aimed to drag him to the bedroom for an evening romp. It struck him as rather childish, but he also did not feel wholly opposed to the idea. The two had little private time with one another; he would gladly take it, especially given the oncoming circumstances.

 

“Is this your grand surprise? A trip to the bedroo-” Seongwoo abruptly came in contact with Daniel’s stationary body, and the last syllable he’d intended on speaking was stifled by the man’s broad shoulders. He hadn’t stopped in front of his bedchambers, but another door. One very close by, just a few down from his own sleeping quarters.

 

Warmth came off of vividly decorated door.

  
Daniel took hold of the handle slowly opening it. He inspected Seongwoo’s face closely upon doing so, attentively watching to assure he appeared unanxious. Warm, fragrant steam drifted out of the opening to the ornately tiled bathing room that had been sanctioned for use exclusively by his majesty. His majesty  _ and  _ his concubine.

 

Heat crept across Seongwoo’s cheeks; he pondered as to whether the sensation would ever cease in the other’s presence. He distinctly recalled the last time he’d set foot in there, hellbent on employing his charms to seduce the man. It had succeeded, to some extent though the concubine had also somehow managed to be seduced himself. Ultimately, looking back on the ordeal felt incredibly embarrassing. Not to mention its aftermath.

 

“Come,” Daniel beckoned, extending a hand. Seongwoo took it, following him into the beautiful bathing room.

  
The place looked different than before. Great care had been taken to adorn the space elaborately. Candles of all sizes sat atop every surface they could, their wax running onto the tile. Between them, flower petals and small blooms had been scattered. A few uncut crystals and gemstones had been sprinkled throughout as well, catching the flickering candlelight beautifully. Vivid floral blooms floated on the surface of the water serenely, bobbing just ever so slightly. A servant stood by the edge of the basin, pouring wine into two crystal chalices. Beside the glasses a small spread of finger foods had been arranged on a silver tray: strawberries, pears, cheese and melons. 

 

Seongwoo stood rooted in place. He took in the scene as King Daniel approached the servant, thanking them as he dismissed them. It wasn’t until the shutting of the door echoed out from behind him that Seongwoo’s mind consciously stirred. Daniel stood by the steps of the tub, an inviting smile on his face. He seemed to be waiting for some response, anything, really. Seongwoo could not blame him. The man had clearly taken effort and care into arranging such a pretty scene.

 

“You planned this?” Seongwoo asked in awe. He stepped forward slowly.

 

“Is… Is it alright?” Daniel asked hesitantly, “I- I know that you- you and I- that we-”

 

“It’s beautiful,” Seongwoo cut him off. He could guess to what the man alluded to. “Thank you.”

 

Closing the distance between them, Seongwoo caught Daniel’s lips in a quick kiss. He grinned when they parted, looking at the other fondly.

 

“And after all that fuss you gave me about lacing this thing up,” Ong fingered the ribbon of his majesty’s doublet, “Now it must be undone.”

 

Daniel beamed, “How terribly thoughtless of me. I do hope you don’t mind being taken from the festival terribly. If you wish to return, we can be brief.” Seongwoo, without prompting, had already gotten to work on undoing the ribbons holding his majesty’s doublet in place. The garment visibly relaxed with each set of eyelets unlaced.

 

Multitasking, the concubine replied, “Not at all. Quite the opposite, actually I… I am rather tired of it all. Being surrounded by the people, the noise. It is great fun but-” Embarrassment painted over the concubine’s face as he admitted, “-I much prefer having you to myself.” He wanted to scrunch his nose at the statement. It was like something out of a lewd play, but he spoke nothing but truth.

 

“I am very glad to hear that. You know, my chambers has an excellent view of the fireworks. I had thought we could eat dinner there, just you and I. Then we could watch them together- My God that sounds rather, um-”

 

“Salacious? Unsubtle?”

 

Daniel laughed, stammering out his rebuttal,“I- I did not mean it to sound like that! I- I do not intend- I mean, I didn’t plan it with the intention of- not that I do not wish to- what I meant was-”

 

“You wish to share a bed with me?!” Seongwoo feigned being scandalized as he slid the man’s jacket off of his shoulders. His fingers started working on his own doublet, and he continued the theatrics. “You cur!”

 

“Alas, my true intentions have been revealed!” Daniel laughed, shucking his shirt. 

 

The two mindlessly bantered as they undressed. Laughs accompanied the shedding of each layer until they were down to nothing but braies. Seongwoo’s fingers floated to the string keeping them up, but they hesitated. He’d always worn at least a shirt when sleeping next to Daniel. Yes, the man and him had been naked in one another’s presence before, but something about that instance felt different. More intimate. He’d chosen to bare himself in front of the other not out of necessity or to advance some plot, but for enjoyment, indulgence. His inner hesitence felt immensely silly, yet he could not help it.

 

The sound of splashing water rang out as his majesty stepped into the tub. It drew Seongwoo’s attention, and consequently, his eyes to the man’s unclothed figure. His eyes raked across his majesty’s wide shoulders. Fair skin stretched beautifully across the hardened muscles of his back. Water kicked up, wetting the man’s long legs and round ass. Warmth swam to the concubine’s stomach at the sight; for once, he felt no obligation to repress it. Even so, with arousal came anxiety. Anxiety about future anxiety. It vexed Seongwoo still. He grew nervous at the thought of becoming nervous; his own anticipation worked against him.

 

“You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to,” Daniel said as he lowered himself slowly.

 

Determined not to let a disgusting lech keep hold over him, Seongwoo replied, “I am, just a moment.” Hurriedly, he yanked on the bow that kept his braies up, shedding them before he could change his mind. The concubine ascended the steps with extra care. A hand extended to take his own, and he gladly took it. 

 

Daniel pulled Seongwoo into another kiss as he got in, wrapping his arms around the other loosely.

 

Kiss.

 

Kiss, kiss, kiss.

 

They’d done that a lot, Seongwoo thought; yet, it never felt like enough. He constantly craved more, never tiring of it. The concubine’s eyes closed, and he got lost in it.

 

Eventually, they separate. Daniel invites Seongwoo to sit first, so he does. The concubine descends into the water. Initially, his instinct prompts him to wait for the other to lean back against the edge of the tub. Another idea immediately follows, and he takes that spot himself. Without a word, the concubine studies his majesty’s reaction. He waits for any sort of utterance or indication that he ought to move and go back to his place.

 

No such proclamation comes.

 

Instead, he startles his concubine in perhaps the most splendid way Seongwoo could imagine. With a small grin, Daniel lowered himself into the fragrant, hot water. He fixed his pupils with Seongwoo’s and straddled him, lowering himself onto the other’s lap. Leaning forward, the man’s long arms looped around his ward’s neck, and he leaned forward, resting his forehead on the concubine’s shoulder.

 

Thinking ceased in Seongwoo’s head. While the one above his shoulders had shut down, the head beneath his waist became very active. Sweet, stinging heat trickles into his abdomen. After some stilted half-thought, he drapes his arms loosely around the other’s waist. Slothfully, his mind catalogued the sensations he feels on his bare skin: long arms around his neck, round ass resting on his thighs, a forehead resting on his shoulder. Further fueling the burning sensation in his gut, Daniel’s body shakes with quiet laughter.

 

“This is quite the change of pace,” He says, lifting his head up. His cheeks are already pink - from the heat of the bath, most likely - and his hair had begun sticking to his forehead. 

 

Seongwoo attempted to look as unbothered as possible when he responded, “It’s nice. Thank you again, truly I… Well, I wish I could more aptly express my- my gratefulness..”

  
Daniel sat more upright, unwrapping his hands from the other’s neck. He reached over to the tiled edge of the bath, grabbing the narrow wine glasses that had been filled for them. Seongwoo took one as it was extended to him.

 

“You needn’t strive to do more than you do,” Daniel said. “Now… What to toast to…”

 

“To… Our time together?” Seongwoo queried.

 

“I like that. I… I like that quite a lot,” His majesty’s tone dropped slightly, sounding more serious. “To our time together, then,” He lifted his glass.

  
“ _ Clink _ !”

 

Seongwoo gently tapped the rim of his to the other’s, and they each took a hearty sip of wine. The two started reaching for the fruit and cheese that had been set out for them. They ate, lapsing into surprisingly comfortable conversation (considering how exposed and close they were). 

 

Their chuckles and emphatic stories ricocheted off the stony bath, and their faces scrunched in laughter, in disbelief and amusement. At one point someone (Ong swore it had been Daniel) threw a raspberry at the other, inciting a fight of sorts. After a shameful portion of their fruit course had sunk into the bath, they decided to cease. When their latest fit of laughter had died down, the two sunk deeper into the warm water. A contented silence cradled the two, as Seongwoo did Daniel, who’d rested his forehead on Seongwoo’s shoulder once more.

 

“Mn…” The King let out a happy sigh, snuggling more closely against the other’s neck. He idly pressed his lips against the other. 

 

“You are going to fall asleep at this rate,” Seongwoo told the other.

 

“Carry me to bed,” Daniel said.

 

“I am strong, but not that strong.”

 

“Are you saying I weigh too much?”

 

“Yes,” Ong replied facetiously, “Yes I am.”

 

“How rude.”

 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I imagine your heaviness is mostly due to your massive, oversized heart. You’re quite the sap.”

 

“Perhaps it’s due to something else that’s massive,” His majesty teased.

 

“If you weren’t so adorable I would punch you for that.”

 

“I told you: I am not adorable.”

 

“You actually are, and don’t test me. I am still playing with whether or not I want to punch you for that.”

 

Daniel took his head off the other’s shoulder. He wore a devilish smirk across his features; it made Seongwoo certain that the man was up to no good.

 

“ _ Splaash _ !”

  
Seongwoo’s eyes pinched close at the sudden rush of water smacking him in the face. His jaw dropped with gall. He wiped his eyes, and upon opening was met with an incredibly amused Daniel. The younger man snorted, and his entire face illuminated with his laughter. It certainly did not serve his personal allegations that he was not adorable.

 

“Being an ass doesn’t exempt you from being adorable,” Seongwoo replied, punctuating the statement with a return of his own.

 

“ _ Splaaaaaash _ !”

 

“Alright I- I s’pose I deserved that,” Daniel chuckled, shaking his dripping hair off. 

 

“See? You are absolutely darling,” Seongwoo replied. “You even shake your head off, like a puppy.” 

 

“I am not a puppy,” Daniel crossed his arms and pouted. “I am man.”

 

“You are a man that looks like a puppy.”

 

“No, I am a man that looks like a man.”

 

“Why does being called adorable bother you so? It is a compliment.”

 

“I am a King. A King should look imposing, intimidating, and powerful, not like a- a puppy.”

 

“Well, you can be all those things, too. Trust me, I have witnessed you in court. There is nothing wrong with being approachable.”

 

“I do not mind that my people feel comfortable speaking with me, but being reduced to the terms of endearment people use to describe children and- and cats?”

 

“If it truly bothers you so, I will stop saying it. But, you must know… Nothing will convince me that you are not adorable.”

 

King Daniel pursed his lips and scrutinized Seongwoo for a couple of moments. After apparent consideration, a tiny grin crossed his lips. It looked even more dangerous than the one he’d worn before, and Ong feared his head was about to be dunked under the water. He had been incorrect in his assumption. Instead, the man took hold of his wrist. Seongwoo opened his mouth to ask what the hell he was doing, but it quickly snapped shut. The King pressed the concubine’s hand to his pectoral and slowly navigated it down. Very, very slowly.

 

“Does this feel adorable to you?” He asked, pressing Seongwoo’s palm against his abdominals. Feverish prickles scratched beneath his skin, trickling slowly toward his own abdomen. Daniel perceived it with ease and proceeded with his nudging. He lifted Seongwoo’s hand off of his stomach, moving it to his thigh, “And what of this? Is this adorable to you?”

 

“How do you expect me to respond?” Seongwoo responded in an attempt to appear composed. He even managed a cheeky grin, quirking his eyebrow. Hopefully, he thought, Daniel hadn’t noticed the slight waver in his voice.

 

“How do you think?” Daniel asked. He didn’t wait for an answer before lowering his lips to Seongwoo’s ear, nipping and licking at the lobe.

 

It took the concubine a few moments to collect his thoughts, to even remember that he ought to verbalize a reply. Concentration became increasingly challenging when Daniel’s hands raked themselves down his body. Determined to win out in the game of wits and will, Ong responded.

 

“I suppose you want me to tell you you look… Imposing,” He let out a chuckle. Daniel’s lips moved further down, nibbling at the skin just beneath his ear. “Intimidating, perhaps? Or- what was the last one? A-ah,” The King sunk his teeth into the other’s neck. “P-powerful.”

 

Daniel’s breath tickled Seongwoo as he laughed; he replied, “Not quite. I may want my subjects to see me that way, but you…”

 

“Me?” Ong said breathily.

 

“I don’t care how you see me, as long as you like it. You can say anything you like,” He inflicts new marks along the concubine’s neck, overlapping with some that had yet to fade.

 

“Anything except adorable?” Seongwoo’s hand idly grasped at the man’s thigh; he brought his other to rest on the opposite thigh, letting his fingers roam. 

 

“Precisely. I can think of a few I would prefer.”

 

“Oh? Such as…” The concubine tilted his head, allowing the other more room to bite.

 

“Strong.”

 

“I suppose I cannot deny that.”

 

“Kind.”

 

“Fitting.”

 

“Smart.”

 

“Debatable,” The two snickered. Seongwoo replied, “I can hardly see why you need me here when you seem perfectly content stroking your own ego.”

  
Daniel laughed, “If this seems one-sided, I could easily do you. Books could be filled with words about you.”

 

“You flatter me,” Seongwoo said, blush crawling up his neck to his face.

 

“Brilliant, for one. Stunning. Unique.” He took hold of his ward’s wrists once more, again bringing them to his pectorals. He’d kissed across the man’s collarbone, and started sinking his teeth into the opposite side as he continued. “Unexpected.”

 

“I- I suppose that one does fit me.”

 

“Enrapturing.” The King moved his concubine’s wrists down his torso with an even more lethargic pace than before.

 

“That’s quite- ah-” Seongwoo gasped at a sudden bite. He could feel his cock beginning to ache. “-quite a nice word. Not commonly used.”

 

“Stimulating.” Daniel pressed Seongwoo’s fingers into the crevices between his defined abs.

 

“A-am I, now?”

 

“Very. And… Exciting-” His majesty returned his lips to Seongwoo’s, kissing roughly. Seongwoo exhaled sharply into it, keening at the spike of pleasure that ran down his spine. He hadn’t even been touched all that much, yet the man had peeled back layers of reservation and timidity.

 

“Anything else?” Ong asked breathily. He felt his hands being directed again.

 

“Sensual,” Daniel purred. He deliberately let the concubine’s hand brush his hard cock before placing them on his thighs again. 

 

Seongwoo jolted; he jumped beneath the other, something he felt sure the King had felt. The concubine waited.

 

He waited and waited and waited.

 

Daniel patiently waited with him, deepening their kiss in the meanwhile. He pressed his tongue gingerly against the other’s lips, and Seongwoo gleefully parted. 

  
Still, he waited.

 

He awaited something- anything - any kind of feeling of illness. The concubine anticipated anxiety, a spear of fear, a constriction of the throat, yet, as his tongue brushed the other’s, nothing happened.

 

Boldly, Seongwoo ran his hands up the other’s legs, resting his thumbs at the junction between his pelvis and thighs. He allowed his fingers to creep inward at a snail’s pace, pressing down on the bone, running across the coarse hairs.

 

He felt okay.

 

He felt  _ okay _ .

 

Seongwoo gave the epiphany little thought. He doubted his brain could contemplate the notion more if he tried. Daniel’s wanton nudges demanded far too much of him. Moving forward eagerly, Seongwoo drew a line up his majesty’s thigh with a finger. Swiftly, the hand moved to grasp the King’s hard-on, gripping it firmly. Daniel gasped into Seongwoo’s shoulder.

 

The concubine let his hand remain there for a moment, taking it in, memorizing how it felt. He’d thought about it more than he wanted to admit; how it felt against his body, how it would feel in his hand. No imagination could compare to the feeling of actually holding it, the firm, pulsating warmth. It wasn’t as if merely holding someone else’s cock was groundbreaking to Seongwoo; he merely had pictured scenarios like that with such frequency that it felt surreal for it to be happening. The concubine’s other hand snatched his majesty’s chin, lifting his head up. He wanted to see the man’s face.

 

A good decision, he quickly learned.

 

Daniel’s eyes had glazed over with want and he held his lower lip between his teeth. His pupils fluttered about, looking at Seongwoo’s eyes, his collarbone, his body beneath the surface of the floral water. The concubine turned the other’s head to open him up more. He moved his lips to the man’s neck, nipping lightly as he started to stroke.

 

The King arched into his concubine’s ministrations. He rapidly relaxed, bending to Seongwoo’s attentions. One of the ruler’s hands began journeying downward. It grazes the concubine’s collarbone, then his pectoral. He rests it on the other’s stomach, fingers fidgeting in response to his own pleasure.

 

Seongwoo brings their lips together again. He still hasn’t tired of them, and he wonders how. Yet, he cannot care to question it much. A fervent desire to kiss them, suck them, bite them, and abuse them until they are bruised and bleeding from adoration overwhelms him. He moves his newly freed hand downward. Pleasure whirls in his stomach when he gropes the other’s ass and gets a groan in response. He does it again, and the sensation tingles inside of him. Just like the rest of his majesty, it’s ample and plush, deliciously exploitable. 

 

His pace remains steady as he pumps the other’s cock; not to quickly, but by no means sluggish. The King squirms and twitches at the sensations; his little movements make the concubine shudder. Seongwoo feels as if a flood gate had been opened. He’d been so timid, so nervous, and even tormented by his desire for intimacy. It was such a simple thing, he thought, to harbor desire for another human. Such primal wants had existed for centuries. Yet never had he anticipated that his desires would ever arise from such profound complexity, amid duty and trouble. Even when he acknowledged what he wanted, acting on it had proved confounding.

 

Until it wasn’t.

 

Be it the internal sense of urgency or the state of relaxation he’d lulled into, something had changed. He wanted Daniel, badly, and he’d decided - his body decided - that nothing was going to stop him. No longer would he allow any person or nightmare to bar him from that happiness. At least, not on that night.

 

Seongwoo snatched Daniel’s wrist, leading his Master’s hand to his own neglected cock. Immense relief combined with a flurry of swirling pleasure shocked him. Daniel did not hesitate to follow the other’s prompting, quickly matching Seongwoo’s pace. Their lips smacked against one another loudly, intermingling with groans and loud exhalations. The sound of gasps and splashing water bounced around the bathing room loudly.

 

“Fuh- Seongwoo,” Daniel murmured breathily against his concubine. It made the man beneath him shudder. 

 

His mind spun. Everything spun; vertiginous splendor intoxicated his every sense. All because of him. Him, him, him. It’s him. Seongwoo wanted to question why? Why? Why had his soul so stubbornly latched onto that man, of all people in the world? He wanted to inquire, but no such questioning was to be had. Not when the more bestial side of him snapped and riled in his belly. His lust bore its maw, clawing at his guts, mounting pressure inside of him.

 

Daniel’s movements devolved. His hips began spasming, jerking and jolting erratically, and his hand no longer moved smoothly. Seongwoo wasn’t ready. He wanted it all, wanted more - more of Daniel, more of everything. He coveted that which did not rightfully belong to him. 

 

“Wait,” Seongwoo said. He yanked on the other’s hair, separating their faces, and took his hand off the other’s cock. Disorientation was apparent on the King’s face, but he obliged, taking his hands off of Seongwoo and catching his breath. The concubine bit on his lower lip nervously. Clinging desperately to the slim sense of security he’d gained, he said, “Let’s continue in bed.”

  
Daniel immediately perked up, “Alright.” The ruler nearly jumped off his ward in eagerness. Loud splashing filled the bathing room as the two clamored out of the massive tub. Despite his hunger, Seongwoo inquired about the safety of leaving a hundred candles burning in their absence. Daniel threw the concubine’s shirt in his direction, stating it would be fine. Probably.

 

The prospect of wandering down the hall half naked and fully hard made an almost juvenile thrill come over the two. Daniel peeked out the door first, laughing as he gestured for the other to follow. Hand in hand, they trotted toward his door, laughter filling the halls. 

 

* * *

 

Jihoon woke, head sore. He squinted at the light blinding him.

 

“Shit,” He sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. The General quickly acclimated himself to the light, which turned out to be rather dim. 

 

The edges of his vision shifted and blurred. Everything appeared dark and muddy; lamplight cast distorted, inky shadows across every surface, obscuring their true forms. A pit of fear hollowed out a spot in the General’s chest, and he jolted up. Panic closed around his throat, and his head darted around with wide eyes. Moving his head moved the world, and he nearly careened off the chair he’d been sitting in.

 

General Park slowly observed his surroundings. As his eyes adjusted to the shadows, he realized that he had nothing to fear.

 

He had woken up in his personal archive after passing out. 

 

“Shit,” He muttered again, heaving a deep sigh. The candle that had been on the desk he’d passed out on had gone out. That was why it had taken him so long to recognize the space. The young officer rectified the issue quickly, using the one lit candle to illuminate the room once more. He wiped his arm across his face, observing the state he’d left the space in prior to passing out.

 

His cloak and even doublet had been thrown onto the back of the chair in front of the desk. It would not have been an issue had they stayed there. While his black cloak dangled on, his doublet sat on the floor in a crumpled mess. Sprawled across the desk was a mess of books, old letters, and smudged sketches. A few bore blotches where wetness had dropped onto them. Likely fresh, if he had to guess. Some of the books on the shelves had fallen to the wayside, and one of the lances that had been hung on the wall had somehow gotten wedged between a shelf and the wall. One bottle sat upright atop his desk while the other had rolled off, wobbling on the floor. 

 

The General’s eyes fell to the source (well, the primary source) of the mess: a reed pipe with a small, thumb-sized bowl protruding from the top. He sighed.

 

His first time using opium still stuck out vividly in his mind. He’d been mere infantry at the time, and it was one of the first truly bloody operations he’d had. Most of the details were blurred. Still, he vividly remembered being around a fire. A blanket had been slung around his shoulders. He never remembered if he’d grabbed it himself or if one of the older soldiers had gotten it for him. 

 

The flickering fire was all that he could recall.

 

He’d stared into it for God knows how long, thinking about how he was going to live himself after doing what he’d done - what he’d been told to. One of the senior soldiers, perhaps a colonel or general, had taken pity on him. A few around the fire had been lighting up, others had been drinking. Jihoon had been offered both.

 

At first, he’d emphatically denied. Well, perhaps not emphatically. He probably hadn’t done anything emphatically the rest of that tour. Anything but kill, anyways.

 

After an hour or two in front of that fire, looking at it but not really looking at it, he’d caved. He had wanted to feel something.  _ Anything _ . He could still feel the way the fire water burned going down his throat. He’d hacked and coughed - it amused the hell out of his seniors. Then came the pipe.

 

He took a small hit and felt nothing at first. It had caused him disappointment, but the others encouraged him; “Take another,” they’d told him, “It makes you feel better.” So he’d done just that. He took a long drag. Then another. And another.

 

He’d spent the rest of that tour taking long drags, reveling in the feeling of artificial euphoria that coursed through his veins. It did nothing to help him forget the agonized faces of those he’d maimed, killed, and even tortured. No, their visages still remained tattooed to his memories, unfading. It merely made it okay. He’d feel insurmountable ecstasy knowing that he’d performed his job so, so well. He had told himself that the destruction was a necessary evil in protecting the Kingdom, in protecting Daniel. Even better, he would come down from the marvellous high and lapse into a deep, dreamless sleep. No nightmares haunted him, causing him to wake covered in sweat with tears streaming down his face.

 

After returning from that first tour, he’d been twitchy. He thought he couldn’t live without it, and it had strained his life in court very much; however, he’d eventually learned to cope without it. At least, not to crave it in such a way that living without the drug physically pained him. He had lasted well, too.

 

Until the next tour just months later.

 

The cycle had repeated for a couple of years: rediscovery, frenzied exhilaration, dependency, then the painful process of being without. Jihoon knew the habit was destructive, he’d seen the profound effects it had had on fellow officers. He’d toyed with the idea of stopping completely, but it wasn’t until much later that he’d committed to quitting.

 

It was when he’d met Guanlin.

 

Still, he’d held onto the pipe. He was, admittedly, sentimental. It held memories. Though Jihoon disliked acknowledging it, part of him believed that he would need it again someday. Apparently, that day had come.

 

Jihoon frowned, glancing at his attire - the attire he’d kept on, anyways. He felt the sticky grime leftover from when sweat subsided on his skin, and his cotton shirt bore new stains. Apparently, he’d kicked off his boots and they, too, had been tossed somewhere around the room. Immense fatigue weighed down his limbs, and, in no particular hurry, the General plopped down in the desk chair again. He sighed, scanning the memories he’d piled onto the table.

 

“ _ 6.15 _

 

_...I feel as if Daniel is a new person. I swear the last time I’d seen him he was much rounder. Now he’s got a nice, pointed jaw. His hair looks much more becoming in its short style… _ ”

 

Jihoon snorted, “God, how embarrassing I was back then.” Surprisingly, the old journal entry had managed to cause a small smile to cross his lips. A genuine one, not one simulated by polluted inhalations. He turned a few pages, eyeing another entry:

 

“ _ 7.08 _

 

_ I am due to leave on another tour in a month’s time. I pray that I shall be chosen for Captain Jung’s squadron. Other cadets tell horror stories about him, but he is the best. I would rather suffer under the best than settle for mediocrity… _ ”

 

“Oh, Captain Jung,” Jihoon shook his head. He had gotten chosen to be in the man’s squadron and, as anticipated, he’d suffered. Though not all the suffering had been what he had expected. He tried not to bear on the scars that tour had left on him, flipping to another nostalgic page. He landed on one of a sketch. At first, it appeared to be Daniel, but looking at the date, Jihoon pieced it together. He snickered, reading through the old memory.

 

“ _ 10.11 _

 

_ It’s absolutely uncanny! I could not believe my own eyes! Imagine how it felt to do patrols of a village and see Daniel at the tavern of all people! Of course, it wasn’t him, but the likeness was absolutely shocking. Sure, the boy was a tad rounder, much like Daniel a year ago, but he was still absolutely gorgeous. His name was something strange, though. Eugon… Euigeon? (I am positive I am not spelling it correctly). I’m not the type to bed commoners on tour (like that lech Taedong), but I couldn’t help it. His thick cock made for a nice ride, too… _ ”

 

General Park, true to his entry, was not particularly promiscuous; still, he somewhat remembered that particular flight of fancy with fondness. He’d written it accurately: the man had been fun. The young officer closed the journal, searching for some other reading material to lift his downtrodden spirits. Confusion overtook the General’s face upon opening another journal. It read as absolute nonsense.

 

“ _ HGZM OLLMZ _

 

_ HGIVZN WVQZEF _

 

_ R XZM'G YVORVEV HLSBV NZWV RG RMGL RLR _

 

_ DROO ZMBLMV YLGSVI GL WVXIBKG GSRH? _

 

_ LMT WRVH ZG GSV VMW _

 

_ SZ SZ QFHG PRWWRMT _

 

_ SZW BLF TLRMT ULI Z HVXLMW WRWM'G R _

 

_ HGZM ERXGLM _ ”

 

“Must’ve been ciphering practice,” Jihoon laughs. Unfortunately, the cipher used wasn’t one he’d retained. It was probably rather simplistic; he’d acclimated himself to different systems, favoring a combination of numerical and alphabetical coding. His eyes drifted to another thing, a piece of paper on his desk. He lifted it to his eyes, a fond smile crossing his lips. It was a note.

 

“ _ Master, _

 

_ Look! I am writikg better! Thank you for teacging me so much. Ig the future I will be able to do more.  _

 

_ -Guaglik _ ”

 

It was one of the first things the younger boy had written to him. He’d mixed up “n” with “g” and “k”, but that only endeared Jihoon more. The General sighed. He figured he ought to surface, God knew how long he’d been passed out in his cave of sentiment. Though he liked to retreat their for personal solace, half of the things there weren’t even his. He’d merely taken over the space after officers before him shoved excess from their own conquests there.

 

General Park began packing things up, slipping memories back inside books and shelving them. Slowly, the space returned to a semblance of order. He hung the lance back up in its proper place and picked up the things that had fallen onto the ground. Jihoon threw his doublet on, not bothering to rebutton it. Instead, he slung his cloak on over it, clasping it so his state of disarray would not be shown on his walk to his bed.

 

“Wh-oh,” Jihoon noticed one stray book on the ground. He picked it up, moving to shove it into an open slot in the shelf nearest to him.

 

“ _ CLUNK _ !” “ _ Bump _ !” “ _ Bang _ !” “ _ Thuud _ !!”

 

Jihoon groaned. In his effort to shelf one book, a dozen others somehow flew out of their spots.

 

“Son of a whore,” He muttered, bending over to pick them up. His foot hit something, and it slid across the floor with a metallic sound. A muffled squeak came from the object. The General jolted up, staring down at the thing with wide eyes. Bending down, General Park gingerly picked up the tiny music box. He hadn’t collected it - it had been from before his time, but he remembered it well. Its melancholy tune always soothed him, and occasionally wind it up.

 

He did just that, turning the key on the bottom. Unlatching the lid, he opened the little box, watching the tiny dancers inside spin around one another. 

 

“Sorry you two,” He murmured, “I’ve got to clean this up.” Jihoon shut the lid delicately, placing it back on the shelf. He quickly got to work on other books. Slowly but surely, the shelf became repopulated with books. However, the last few things left were incredibly vexing. 

 

Jihoon’s eyebrows knit together, and he looked at the old ledger annoyedly, “Why the hell to pages keep flying out from you?” He asked the book rhetorically. Opening it up, he gave the old record a looksee. The thing had to be at least a decade old.

 

“Hm,” He uttered upon seeing that his guess had been correct. The record dated back almost twelve years. The old thing was thick, indicating a rather impressive triumph; impressive and bloody. “This must’ve been one of the big ones,” The General mused.

 

As a dedicated soldier, Jihoon made it his business to know military history intimately. Thinking back to acquisitions of the time, he recalled a few of the major ones of the time. That was around the time that the Kang military had journeyed to the islands. Naval warfare had never been a strong point of the empire, and as his superiors had paraphrased, those tours had been “a massive pain in the ass”. There were also a few smaller land territories taken then, but it made little sense for those to have such high body counts.

 

Jihoon absentmindedly flipped through the old ledger. There were a few notes taken by whoever had been in charge of archiving things at the time. Some folded briefs and sketched maps had been slipped in. Then there were the lists of registered deaths. The General frowned - it was by far the shittiest job to have in the forces. Badly behaved cadets were paired up with the doctors to dig through dead person’s homes if their names hadn’t been recorded upon capture. They had to tag the bodies so their graves could be marked accordingly before they were dumped in. No formal service was dictated, but a few of the more generous cadets who were put on burial duty would say a prayer. Jihoon had always made a point that his cadets did.

 

A page had been torn out.

 

The General’s attention abruptly shifted. He eyed the ledger again, surprise painting his features. He flipped through. At least only a few pages had gone missing, but it still vexed him. He inspected the ledger once more, flipping through a few more of the pages, then going back to those that had been removed. He scanned it, then turned back to the missing pages again.

 

Who would have done this? He wondered. The only other person who had been in there was Guanlin.

 

Anger started to prick the General’s throat and chest. Guanlin was the only other person who knew about the spot, but what if he and that Seonho boy had snuck off. Wild ideas started playing through his head, terrible things. The mere thought of Guanlin being so intimately close with a person other than him made him want to stab his eyes out. 

 

“Ugh, the little shit,” Jihoon hissed, directing all of his annoyance at Yoo Seonho. “He probably took a few pages as a souvenir. God have mercy on his soul should I find him hand in hand with my Guanlin.” Furious, Jihoon shoved the defiled ledger back on the shelf. He picked up another one off the ground and flipped through it angrily. Thankfully, that ledger had been unaffected. Checking another, he felt relieved to see that it, too, had been left untorn. Nervously, he reached for the last book on the ground, one with a red cover. Timidly, Jihoon opened it, turning the pages rapidly. He feared that if he found a page out of the exotic book of sensuality torn out, he would go on a rampage.

 

“Oh, thank heavens,” Jihoon’s shoulders sagged in relief. He placed the book back in its spot (well, a spot) and looked toward the door leading out. The General snatched up the bottles he’d brought, and grabbed the door’s handle.

  
Suddenly, he stopped.

 

General Park stood frozen still for a few moments.

 

Something felt off. He tried think of what it could possibly be. The gears in his head churned, turning against one another, but the spark they attempted to fuel had yet to ignite. He retraced his steps, from his lamentations to the fit of anguish that had brought him to his archive. He shook his head. No, he thought, it’s not that. He searched through the aspects of his mind, the little categories in which he kept things neatly tucked away (at least, he tried to). His thoughts went to his adored Guanlin and Daniel, to opium and alcohol, to weapons and old letters.

 

Jihoon placed the bottles back down on his desk and eyed the bookshelves.

 

With incredible care, he withdrew one, turning the pages more slowly. He skimmed the contents with purpose, absorbing the knowledge within. A sense of urgency shook him to his core, and his fingers quivered with each turn of the page. His chest began rising and falling erratically, panic sinking into his bones. 

 

Jihoon had learned to handle his nerves in various ways. Sometimes, he’d use substances to cope. Other times, the comfort of a friend or his sweet concubine helped. However, most of the time he let it sit in his bloodstream. The prickly feeling would fester, it would simmer and burn until it converted itself into white, searing rage. Perhaps anger was not the most productive or healthy way for one to handle their anxieties. Jihoon couldn’t give less of a damn. 

 

His concern began bubbling, compounding and roiling under high pressure. 

 

He read carefully, every letter, every syllable. The entire account of the conquest, the names of the ships - those destroyed on both sides, those recovered, repaired, and reclaimed, those lost. The General committed the names of the officers before him to memory - who had been in charge of each squadron. Who were the warrant officers, the contractors? 

 

General Park slammed the book shut when he’d seen enough.

 

Epiphany dawned on him; it bore a lance of disquietude and plunged it deep into his heart. Unparalleled pain radiated from the symbolic wound, nearly causing the man to double over with shock, with anguish. But he didn’t.

 

He got angry.

 

Very, very angry. 

 

Red hazed Jihoon’s vision as he threw the door open and stomped up the stairs. He didn’t even bother cleaning up. He didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore. He had one more pressing priority. 

 

Entering the well lit corridors of Castle Jeon once more, Jihoon barked at the first guards he saw. 

 

“You, with me!” He hollered, not bothering to see if they followed. “We need to see the King - now! This is a matter of utmost urgency, and-” Jihoon halted. He didn’t hear any rushed movement, any inquiries as to what was expected of them. “Are you listening? I am a superior, you will heed my orders!” General Park seethed, furiously striding toward the nearest staircase.

 

“We don’t take orders from you,” One of the guards replied indignantly from behind.

 

“You don’t- Are you deaf or dumb? Did you not  _ fucking  _ hear me? You serve this goddamn Kingdom. I don’t give a shit if you are in the employ the fucking Duke of Asses, you will follow my comma-” Jihoon turned around to scold the two more, but his jaw dropped.

 

They were gone.

 

“Fucking useless swords for hire,” Jihoon grumbled. He didn’t care. He had no time. The General broke out into a run. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. All that mattered was the well being of his Kingdom. Of his King. Relief flooded him as another set of guards could be seen in the distance.

 

“You there!” Jihoon called out, “You, come with me now- oomf!”

 

A hand forcefully clamped over his face.

 

“Mmmmf! Mmmfuff!” Jihoon struggled against it with all his might. Surely a single rowdy sellsword was no match for him. Except, he could hardly breathe. An overwhelming odor of something pungent and acidic filled his nose. It brought tears to his wide eyes. Someone seized one of his arms, another took the other. The General’s chest heaved erratically, desperate for air, for anything.

 

“MMMFFFF! MMMFMfmfmmffhhHhh!” Tears rolled down Jihoon’s face as he desperately held onto consciousness.

 

“Someone shut him up,” A voice groaned.

 

“MMffffhhh! MmmmhhhhhH!!!! Mmmhhh…. Mmhh…” Shapes swam in Jihoon’s vision. He felt himself fading, his control over his own body diminishing by the second. He felt limp and strangely numb, as if his own blood had been replaced with pure, milky opium. Only the warmth of tears rolling down his cheeks could register, everything else felt as if it wasn’t his own. He could hardly feel himself being dragged along the tile of Castle Jeon.

 

One of the last things he could visibly discern was the stairwell toward King Daniel’s room. He watched helplessly as it faded in the distance, shrinking, smaller and smaller. Jihoon’s heart sunk.

 

I need to warn him, he thought.

 

I need to warn him about-

 

Everything faded to black.

 

* * *

 

The King and his concubine burst into the door. The pair had nearly forgotten to close it, but luckily one or the other (neither cared to recall) slammed it shut. 

 

Seongwoo clung to Daniel, kissing him hungrily. Their noses bumped and their teeth clacked against each other, but neither particularly cared. The concubine relished in the bittersweet sensation coursing through his veins. He prayed that, if only for that night, he would completely lose himself in the other. Daniel matched the concubine’s intensity with his own. He lapped at Seongwoo’s lips, inserting his tongue between them. 

  
The concubine slackened, relaxing into the other’s grip. He yielded with eager ease and welcomed the other’s exploration. A pleasured sigh escaped his lips in the cracks between their passion. Tangled in a mess of limbs, the two ambled over toward the bed, nearly throwing themselves onto the feather mattress.

 

They were dripping wet, and goosebumps spotted their skin from the cool air. Water trailed from the door and stained the sheets; yet, neither could care less. Hands raked at bare skin kneading, groping, caressing. Lust boiled over with a newfound urgency, and any lingering doubts had been burned in the sweltering heat pumping through their veins.

 

“W-wait here,” Daniel whispered, giving Ong a peck. The concubine hardly had time to take pause or catch his breath before the other returned. He wasn’t sure why he’d hopped off the bed but cared little. What mattered was that he’d returned. 

 

Daniel ground his hips, resulting in sweet, tantalizing friction. Their erections brushed sending more waves of craving through the one below him. Seongwoo reached down again to stroke Daniel’s cock, and the other returned in earnest. Seongwoo spread his legs, wanting to give Daniel more room to move. More access. 

 

The King moved his lips down quickly. He’d abused Seongwoo’s lips and neck enough, and happily looked to do so lower. 

 

“H-ah,” Seongwoo gasped as lips closed around his nipple. Daniel licked little circles around the nib before flicking at it. Shivers quaked down the concubine’s spine, and he shuddered beneath the other. 

 

Daniel gave the same treatment to Seongwoo’s other nipple, giving them attention until they swelled up from it. Satisfied, he ventured further. He trailed sloppy kisses down his stomach, to his pelvis. Without warning, his lips continued more, finding their way to the base of his cock. Seongwoo’s jaw dropped, and he looked down at his majesty. Surely, the King hadn’t planned on-

 

He had.

  
He most certainly had.

 

Eyes fixed on Seongwoo, Daniel took the head of his concubine’s cock in his mouth. Seongwoo’s mouth opened, but he choked on whatever noise had wanted to come out. He wasn’t prepared, not in the least. Nothing could have possibly readied him for the ignition of his fuse or the way Daniel’s eyes looked so dark; he looked so eager to please, to drink in every detail of his twitching, writhing concubine. 

 

Daniel bobbed his head slowly at first. He worked on getting himself used to the feeling of the other in his mouth. He experimented in little ways. His head descended, and he pressed his tongue firmly along the bottom; then, he tried letting it move as he went down, drawing little shapes along the length. Seongwoo’s favorite, however, was when he came up and swirled his tongue around the tip, dipping it into the slit.

 

“Fff-” Seongwoo bit his lower lip, and his chest bobbed up and down. Daniel, apparently done with playing, moved more deliberately when his head moved down once more. He went down slowly, opening himself up the best he could. His eyes teared up, and he squeezed them shut. 

 

Seongwoo felt dizzy, like he was floating. Daniel’s mouth felt so hot and wet. His pink lips looked beautiful, stretched over his cock, eagerly taking it in. Slippery squelching noises sounded out as Daniel found his rhythm. Saliva and precome ran down Seongwoo’s cock, puddling on the sheets. The concubine’s hand shot down to grasp a handful of his majesty’s hair.

 

Without intention, Seongwoo’s hips jerked up. He felt a rush of guilt upon hearing the other seize up, but it did nothing to stop his majesty. In fact, it seemed to spur him on further. Daniel ventured further down on the other, embracing the way tears welled up in his eyes. 

 

“Shit,” Seongwoo hissed when he felt the back of the other’s throat convulse around the tip of his cock. Daniel keened at the exclamation. He took handfuls of Seongwoo’s thighs, pressing them against the mattress as he deepened his ministrations. His majesty’s eyes finally left the other’s. He closed them, and he looked as if he’d done so to savor the taste of his lover. What Daniel lacked in skill he more than made up for in enthusiasm. Seongwoo felt as if no work of art could rival the stunning beauty of the man with his lips wrapped around his cock.

 

Without warning, Daniel stopped. He sat up; his chest bobbed heavily as he worked to realign his breathing with normalcy. His eyes, impossibly dark, avariciously raked across the concubine’s splayed out body. Seongwoo hardly looked coherent. The flush that had sent into his cheeks in the bath had done nothing but deepen, creeping down his neck onto his collarbone. His lips had been gnashed at, sucked, and licked so much that they had swollen.  Daniel’s eyes interlocked with Seongwoo’s. Seongwoo noticed the slightest of smiles upturning the other’s lips. 

 

Satisfaction.

 

The concubine would have resented the smugness had it not so greatly stoked his arousal. Daniel reached next to himself, grabbing something off of the mattress. He uncorks a small bottle, pouring a generous amount of oil onto his fingers. Seongwoo gulps. He prays that his body does not choose then to shut down, to betray him. The prayer, however, is dulled. Its edges blur, alongside everything else in his swimming vision.

 

He watches dazedly as Daniel moves his slicked hand slowly, ever so slowly, toward his own cock. The King pumps it a few times, and his breathing loudly tremors. Seongwoo is captivated. The concubine props himself up on his elbows to get a better view. Every part of him blazed with blistering pruriency. The very cells of his being stood on edge, eager and thirsting for the other.

 

Daniel kept his attention attentively on Seongwoo as he continued touching himself. Seongwoo followed his hand as it let go of his dripping cock and ran along his pelvis. A finger traced his inner thigh - much like Seongwoo’s had earlier - and it moved along. His lackadaisical self caressing entranced Seongwoo, and his mind hardly put much thought toward the purpose.

  
Suddenly, a sharp inhalation from the King cut through Seongwoo’s hazy thoughts. His eyes widened, and he followed the line of his majesty’s long, muscular arm; it reached back, behind himself. Between himself.

 

“F-f-ff,” Daniel hissed, and his face squeezed into a strange expression. He started to stroke himself again with his other hand.

 

Breath caught in Seongwoo’s throat, and his cock twitched. His jaw dropped unconsciously. He felt no inclination to pick it back up. King Daniel, sovereign ruler of Kang Kingdom, squirmed and jerked as he fingered himself in his concubine’s lap. No other form of coherent thought could materialize in the concubine’s head. How could it?

 

He wondered how long he remained in stasis, staring with a dumb expression on his face. Had Daniel noticed, it did not seem to bother him. On the contrary, upon slightly regaining his wits, the King’s gaze met the other’s again. He assured that the dark orbs remained stationary, keeping the other’s captive. He wanted Seongwoo to know: this is what you do to me, this is how desperately I want you.

 

“Hhh-ah,” Daniel winced, his head teetering back as he opened himself up for Seongwoo. He looked slightly pained. Finally, Seongwoo sat up so he could meet the other more closely. He hugged the other closely, yanking on his hand. Daniel, though slightly adrift, let his hands rest momentarily, regarding the other.

 

“You look as if you’re hurt,” Seongwoo whispered, giving the other a quick peck on the lips.

 

“I- I have never been on- on this end of such affairs.”

 

The concubine frowned, “There is no need for you to-”

 

“No,” Daniel interjected, “I- I mean I understand that, but… I want to. I want you in every way imaginable. I concern more for your comfort.”

 

“Me? You needn’t worry,” Seongwoo shook his head, “I do not wish to live with regrets. I want this. I want you and- and...” He hesitated, heat stinging his ears as he admitted things he’d wished he would never have had to. “I want you to have me. All of me. I cannot wait any longer.” The last part came out hushed, almost a whisper. Immense shame came over him, but it was quickly dissolved by overwhelming ecstasy as the other brought their lips together once more. 

 

The concubine shuddered, and he still could not determine why. Perhaps it was fear of Daniel, of how he would be treated; or maybe humiliation in lieu of his own self sabotaging actions. Most likely, however, it was pleasure, the venting of pressure that had been building up over a period of months. 

 

“I have dreamed of you saying such things to me for so long,” Daniel growled, nipping at Seongwoo’s lower lip. Their tongues brushed once more, twirling and prodding at one another. Not yet tired, Seongwoo thought. Even after all the kisses they’d shared, it had never felt like enough. Surely, he thought, by now one ought to bore of such things. He wondered, did God himself grow tired of bringing them together in that way? Or, perhaps his hand still fervently labored to rip them apart. Seongwoo thought that, maybe, their latching onto one another - through lips and limbs - was their own stubborn rebellion against his will. 

 

Daniel’s fingers ventured to his entrance once more, and he attempted to stretch himself out for Seongwoo even further. Choked breaths sliced the air, and Seongwoo brought his hand to the other’s. The concubine pecked his lover on the cheek, speaking lowly.

 

“You will hurt yourself if you’re impatient. Let me,” Seongwoo said. He felt around the mussed sheets until his hand came in contact with the little glass bottle. When his fingers felt significantly slippery enough, he brought them to the King’s entrance and pressed one in carefully.

 

Daniel froze up momentarily at the intrusion, but he quickly willed relaxation. He lowered his head onto Seongwoo’s shoulder, taking heavy breaths in an attempt to accustom himself. The concubine scissored his finger in at a crawling pace. He pressed gently against the other’s walls, and he used his spare hand to stroke the other.

 

“I- I can take more,” Daniel said in a hushed tone. He sounded breathy, but not pained. A promising sign. Seongwoo urged patience in himself upon inserting a second. Another sharp exhalation came from his majesty; however, he relaxed quickly. Ong handled the man on top of him with the utmost care, stretching him generously. He continuously tugged at the other’s cock with a steady, firm grip without allowing him to come too close to the edge.

 

Seongwoo, feeling a tad mischievous, quirked an eyebrow; he murmured in the other’s ear, “You truly have never been touched like this?”

 

It took a moment for Daniel to respond,“No.” He sounded bashful. The concubine started rooting around inside the other gingerly. He brushed his fingers inward, gently pressing.

 

“ _ God _ ,” Daniel cried.

  
Seongwoo chuckled, pressing his lips against the other’s neck. He placed a kiss, then another, and another. Delicately, Seongwoo added another finger, assuring that he hit Daniel’s soft spot in doing so. The other wriggled on top of him. He opened and closed his grip at his concubine’s hips, shoulders, or wherever else he could reach. Paying no heed to any possibility of scandal or whispers, Seongwoo nipped at skin by Daniel’s collarbone gently. 

 

He elicited another hushed cry, and sweetness swirled in his gut at the sound. He decided it was about time the man bear marks of his own. Steadily, Seongwoo opened Daniel up from the inside while leaving love bites on his outside. The concubine’s tongue flitted about finding skin and flesh. He dug down deeper, reciprocating the gesture that had so riled him earlier. 

 

A high whine entered the concubine’s ears as he took Daniel’s nipple between his teeth. He handled the nib gently, just barely teasing it with the edges of his teeth. He could feel the man sitting on his lap becoming less patient, and in honesty, his own patience had declined. Seongwoo had been wound up tight since the beginning, and every little brush against the other - every encounter, every flare of tension - had only served to put more strain on him. Little time separated him from his inevitable breaking point.

 

Wet sounds rang out along with croaking whines. Seongwoo fucked his fingers into the other and contently committed the other’s little noises and quirks to memory. Daniel swayed and rocked into the motion of the other’s fingers eagerly. For someone who had been so hesitant shortly prior, he’d taken the sensations in stride. Seongwoo’s own cock ached, but he adored the sight in front of him too much to care. Never had he anticipated the two coming together in such a way. He knew Daniel had fleshly desires, but hadn’t expected such wantonness to emerge. Abruptly, the royal’s movements slowed. The King’s eyes locked with his ward’s, and he moved the other’s hand away. The concubine’s head titled curiously. 

 

Daniel positioned himself above Seongwoo’s cock, a bit of nervousness betraying itself. A veil of shadows cast itself over his gaze as he stared at the other’s face intently. It made a rush of sweltering heat lurch in Seongwoo’s gut. In anticipation, the concubine took hold of the man’s back, his grip nearly bruising. His heartbeat drowned out almost any other sound his senses could register. Everything that had been building: affection, puzzlement, confusion, anxiety, and carnal lust, culminated. It rolled into a single, urgent need, knocking at his insides, demanding relief.

 

“A-ah!” Daniel gasped, throwing his onto Seongwoo’s shoulders. His brows knit together and his eyes squeezed shut. He had only just taken the tip of his concubine’s cock, but the stark contrast from his fingers was plainly apparent. Without purposeful thought, Seongwoo took a hand off of Daniel’s hips. The concubine seized one of his Master’s hands, interlacing their fingers. He gave it a squeeze.

 

Daniel returned the other’s with a white knuckled grip of his own. He shook as he lowered himself gradually, and Seongwoo gasped. He could feel the other, warm and wet, wrapping around him. The heat inundated him; it stained his skin red and encircled his throbbing cock.  Gradually, Daniel lowered himself further; in spite of his stubbornness, whiny mutters drifted out of his throat, into the room. Seongwoo wiggled and writhed as his cock pushed inside the other gradually.

 

“How does it feel?” Seongwoo asked, his voice breathy.

 

“It feels, um, strange- fffuh- s-so strange,” Daniel replied shakily. Seongwoo reached between them and started jerking the other’s cock. “Ff-hhah.” The King tremored; the concubine felt the shivering around his cock, and it made pleasure bite his gut fiercely. “Feels so- full.”

 

“Just move when you are ready,” Seongwoo said, kissing the man again. 

 

Tremulous, Daniel lowered himself completely onto Seongwoo. Sensations blurred and mingled; so much yet so little happened at the same time. In reality, what was transpiring was simplistic, primal. Yet beneath the surface myriad microtensions and innumerable affections interweaved. Their lips met again as they had so many times, as they would again; in the gesture they poured everything, completely wrapped in one another. Lascivious want and need no longer distinguished itself from the aches of their ailing hearts. 

 

His majesty began moving, eliciting a moan from the man behind him. Seongwoo held the other’s hand more tightly, caressing the top of it with his thumb. He was utterly smitten. Smitten and infatuated and wholeheartedly consumed by the man. His presence wrapped around him, and he had long before stolen the concubine’s heart. Together, they found a rhythm.

 

Daniel hastened, and Seongwoo matched the bucking of the other’s hips with the motions of his hand. Daniel started mewling against the other’s lips in lieu of their quickening. Soon, he could no longer bear the new feelings and buried his face in his concubine’s shoulder.

 

“Shit, Seongwoo,” Daniel’s chest heaved as he choked out the words, “ff-fhh- feels so good.” 

 

Ong’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head hearing the man’s groans. He started thrusting up into the other, meeting his hips. Daniel’s surrender filled Seongwoo with intoxicating adoration. He wished to give the man everything and more. The two had that single night, that place, and that moment. What was to come after, neither could tell, but there he could treat the other with all the care he desired. The slapping of flesh on flesh filled the room. It echoed off the tiles of the room along with their airy utterances. Nothing else existed but them, that bed and that room.

 

“D-Daniel,” Seongwoo moaned. He knew it was the type of maudlin drivel that would make him feel ashamed later, but in that moment he so badly desired to hold the other’s name between his lips.

 

Teeth sunk into the concubine’s neck, causing red, wet warmth to seep out. Stinging pain tussled with luscious pleasure, toiling in Seongwoo’s gut, begging for more. He gasped again, arching into Daniel’s bestial marking wantingly. No matter what happened, he told himself, these marks proved something. They signified their authentic passion. Even if only temporary, he wanted to wear a testament of their affections. 

 

He was Daniel’s.

 

Daniel was his.

  
They belonged to each other.

 

Perhaps it would be so for a mere, single night, but Seongwoo happily clung to that. He clung to that notion with almost as much veracity as he clung to the man himself. His arms wrapped around the other’s broad shoulders to bring them flush. Short nails pressed crescents into his majesty’s pale skin. Shakily, the concubine hugged the other more tightly. Anything to bring them closer.

 

Bolts of pleasure shocked him like lightning. They electrified him from his spine and to the extremities of his limbs. Even his fingertips felt alight with the flames of passion. Stumbling, disjointed whines squeaked out of Daniel’s throat. Everything overwhelmed Seongwoo. He nearly suffocated on it all: the warmth, the other wrapped around him, how he’d surrendered to his concubine, his lover. Daniel had opened up so beautifully, and he looked absolutely breathtaking as he was. His mouth hung open, stifling not a single one of the gorgeous little sounds escaping it. Sweat made him appear to glow in the candlelight as he fucked himself on his concubine’s cock. The man, someone who’d shown so many sides, who had kept himself ever so prim and proper to his subjects, had thrown all of his pride to the wind. And so had Seongwoo.

 

White light edged the concubine’s sight as his grip on composure dwindled. He could feel his cock stutter and lurch inside the other. Stubbornly, he hastened his pace on the other’s cock, willing his majesty’s undoing first.

 

“H-hah- Fuck- Seongwoo!” Daniel chased his own climax, bouncing quickly and erratically. He threw his head back, choking on the moans that had readied themselves as he came. His hole clasped and seized in tandem with the trembling of his body as he spent himself. 

 

The concubine writhed, boiling pressure beginning to bubble over. Whether consciously intentional or not, his majesty squeezed around the concubine’s cock, causing him to careen over the edge. Airy groans and gasps left his mouth as his hips bucked and jerked up into the other. He let out a grunt, and his cock twitched, spilling himself deep inside the King. 

  
  


“F-uh- Oh, God- Daniel!” Curses spewed out of Seongwoo’s throat as hot strings of liquid spewed out of his cock. His body jerked with each passing wave of pleasure that wracked his body, fucking every last drop of his come into the other. Splashes of hazed color came into view, and the edges of his vision shifted and blurred.

 

A shudder came over Seongwoo as his body, already far past its tolerance for stimulation, processed the tiny sensations. Shaky gasps left the concubine’s lips, and all he could do to discharge any of the surplus feeling was to weakly cling to Daniel. 

 

When the pounding of his heart died down, all Seongwoo could hear was their heavy breaths echoing off of the ceiling of the bedchamber. Daniel sluggishly got off of him, his face still glazed over with ecstasy. He lowered himself to lay beside Seongwoo and clumsily threw a blanket on top of himself. The concubine followed. Seongwoo could not be brought to care about how filthy either of them were at the moment; he waited for his brain to properly right itself after the whirlwind of lust and emotion.

 

It took awhile.

 

After what felt like eons, the fog of tiredness had thinned between the two.

 

Daniel’s eyes visibly drooped, looking liable to close for a night’s sleep at any moment. Seongwoo was in no better condition, frequently dozing in and out of consciousness. He likely would have passed out had the King not muttered something to him.

 

“C’mere,” Daniel slurred sleepily. 

 

Seongwoo obliged, rolling onto his side to face the other. He laggardly scooted close and tangled their legs together. A lump began forming in his chest, but he swallowed it down.

 

“What?” Seongwoo asked, fighting unconsciousness.

 

The King cupped the other’s cheek, “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” His thumb stroked the constellation birthmark on the concubine’s face tenderly.

 

Seongwoo chuckled, his heart tossing and turning torturously in his chest, “Perhaps you have. I can hardly recall at the moment.” He spoke softly.

 

“Then I shall remind you: Seongwoo, you are the most beautiful person I have ever known. I do not just refer to your face, but your humanity. Everything is just… Stunning. You are stunning.”

 

“I- I do not know what to say. Surely I am not deserving of such praise. From you of all people. You are the one with broad shoulders and plush lips, and- and-” A lump rose in the concubine’s throat, “And a kind heart.”

 

Daniel chuckled. He pressed his forehead against Seongwoo’s, nuzzling his nose against the other’s affectionately. Warmth centered from the spot circulated throughout Seongwoo’s entire body. His eyes fluttered closed, and he savored the sweet affections. 

 

“Seongwoo, please know,” Daniel’s voice was almost inaudible, a hushed whisper, “Even if days pass and seasons change, you’re the only one deep in my heart.” His voice began wavering, “No one, nothing can take that away.”

 

He pressed his lips to the other’s, and Seongwoo met them with glee. He’d gone so far, so deep, pulled into an emotional trench that it would likely take him years to climb out of. Still, he forged forward in the immediate future. He indulged, letting himself have that happiness, even if it was ever fleeting.

 

Even though it was doomed from the start.

 

Muffled booms and bangs filtered in through the panes of the King’s window, a signal to the festival’s ending. After all the fuss everyone had made about watching them, neither King nor concubine bothered stirring from their spot.

 

The two lost themselves in one another’s kiss for awhile. Time ambled on by, and neither lended much care to the fact. Their lips met gently, at a leisurely pace. They luxuriated in one another, letting their tongues lazily lap at one another, uncaring if their noses bumped or their teeth clashed. Faint sighs and mewls occasionally sounded out, but little else broke the spell of comfortable quiet that had replaced their vocalized affections.

 

Seongwoo was not sure how much time had passed when Daniel spoke again. Had it been a quarter of an hour? Half an hour? It could have been two minutes and he would not have been able to tell. All he could determine with certainty was that he felt dazed and strangely desolate when the other’s lips left his.

 

Abruptly, Daniel sat upright in the bed.

 

He said nothing.

 

Seconds lapsed into a minute, then two.

 

Still, nothing.

 

Uneasiness pierced the comfortable bubble of quiet that had once hung in the air, and Seongwoo’s patience rapidly diminished. Fear blossomed in his chest. Sitting up himself, the concubine spoke anxiously.

 

“Daniel, what is it?”

 

Daniel’s manner had rapidly changed. He fidgeted nervously, and his pupils scuttled about the room. Despite his visible efforts, his lips remained downturned ever so slightly. The sight put Seongwoo on edge. He could not fathom what could possibly turn the man’s mood so sour with such suddenness. Surely, his majesty had no odd suspicions arise then of all times. As seconds transitioned into minutes of heavy silence, Seongwoo began feeling insecure. He wriggled beneath the other’s shifting gaze.

 

“One moment,” Daniel said quietly. The concubine watched inquisitively as the man crossed over to his bedside table. A few clinks and clicks echoed off the ceiling of his massive bed chamber. When the noises ceased, he returned with something clasped in his hand. Seongwoo wasn’t given a chance to further discern what it was. Daniel enveloped his lover in another kiss with immediacy. 

 

Seongwoo sighed into it. Bittersweet tension settled in his soul, but he tried to fight it. He concentrated every ounce of dread, regret, passion, and ecstasy into his lips; he poured his soul into the other. The King seemed more than receptive of it. If the concubine wasn’t mistaken, he, too, had something underlying his own actions. His majesty used his spare hand to firmly hold the other’s neck in place as they continued. Desperation grew between them; yet, neither could quite ascertain the other’s anxieties.

 

The concubine looped his arms around his majesty’s neck, deepening their embrace. He hardly noticed the soft sounds that tickled his ears. It wasn’t until he felt wet, salty tears on the tip of his tongue that he became aware that anything was truly amiss. He separated and came face to face with a teary-eyed Daniel. The King’s gaze cast downward, and he slowly backed away. Seongwoo’s brows knit into confusion, and it took him a few instants of studying the other before he realized something:

 

His neck felt cold.

 

Seongwoo’s fingers shot up to his neck, and his eyes widened in insurmountable shock. Heat rushed to his face, gushing out of his tear ducts before he could entirely process his thoughts. Searing heat scorched him, and in alternation, icy cold; it was as if his own body could not properly comprehend the situation. Color flooded out of his system, leaving him a sickly shade of pallid ivory, and his mouth gaped.

 

He looked at Daniel, though with what he could not discrepate. Was it relief? Happiness? Concern?

 

Betrayal?

 

Anxiety upon anxiety compounded, creating a blockage in his throat. He choked on it as he attempted to sputter out a response, or, at the very least, a single word. Yet he could muster nothing. All he could bring himself to do is what he had been since the initial shock. He grasped at his neck, and his chest sputtered erratically in his attempts to catch steady breath.

 

With a voice thick and heavy with tears, Daniel clarified:

 

“Seongwoo,” He said, shakily, “You are free.” 

 

His majesty held up the leather collar that had been closed around the other’s neck for so long to illustrate the point. Something broke in the concubine’s psyche. Daniel is a good man, he thought, and though he knew it oughtn’t have, that thought shattered him.

  
Seongwoo’s sobs instantly grew more violent, more painful. They tore at his chest, raking white hot claws across his heart. He transitioned rapidly into hysterics, shaking his head as he muttered to himself.

 

“No,” Seongwoo said. “No, no, no, no, no, no you can’t- You can’t- No-”

 

“Seongwoo,” Daniel frowned. His own remaining composure eroded rapidly, but he held on admirably in hopes that it would lend the other comfort. “Seongwoo, please- this- this isn’t easy for me, either, but… I have to let you go,” His body lurched with a sob, “I have to. You cannot- you- you deserve so much better than this. Go. There is no happiness for you and I here. Live a life that you call your own. Forget about- about everything. Please, Seongwoo-” His majesty reached out, but the concubine recoiled.

 

“No,” Seongwoo replied through labored breaths, “No I- You- It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to be like this, and I- I- I wasn’t supposed to- I never thought I would- I would-” His face fell slack for a moment. Tears ran down his face limply. He eaped off of his majesty’s bed. Without a word, he yanked one of the thin sheets off of it, wrapping it around his shoulders and bounding toward his chambers. Daniel’s eyes widened, and he quickly followed the other.

 

“Seongwoo, what are you- what are you doing? Just because you are free does not mean you must leave this very instant.”

 

“None of this- none of this was supposed to happen,” The other murmured, ignoring the King. “You weren’t supposed to be- you weren’t supposed to be kind.”

 

“What are you going on about? Seongwoo, please, do not make this any harder than it is-” The concubine strode past his King, gaze turned to the floor. Daniel quickly pursued, and grabbed him by the arm. “Seongwoo! Where are you going?”

 

“I need to leave,” Seongwoo replied, still not looking at Daniel. 

 

The king tugged the other toward him, pulling him into another desperate kiss. Seongwoo, despite his reservations and worries, could not help but return it. He dreamed of a world in which he could kiss Daniel and truly lose himself in the bliss of it. 

 

It was not a world he lived in.

 

Time itself seemed to slow down upon the meeting of their lips. Gradually, the frantic chaos that had surrounded the two faded. Daniel’s hand dropped from the other’s arm to gently grasp his fingers. Though neither could describe what replaced it as happiness, per se, at the very least neither felt frenzied. Seongwoo thought that the word “numb” most adequately aligned with whatever brewed within his chest. They separated, and a cloak of bitter silence dropped over them. After careful thought, the concubine was the first to break it.

 

“Daniel,” His voice had grown hoarse from crying, “Please listen to me very carefully.” He looked the other in the eye intently.

 

Daniel nodded, “Yes, Seongwoo?” He sounded equally as ruined.

 

“I…” Seongwoo bit his lip nervously, “I… Everything I feel it is… What- what we have is… It is real. You and I are  _ real _ . My feelings for you are true and strong and- and unexpected and I- I-”

 

Daniel hung onto every syllable the other uttered with a vice grip,“Are you trying to say that you- that you-” A note of hopefulness tinted his tone, and he looked at the other keenly.

 

“Don’t,” The concubine cut him off coldly. He let his hand drop from the other’s grasp and started walking away. “You’ll only make this harder.”

 

His majesty stood paralyzed in wreck. Eyes wide and mouth agape, he could do nothing but watch the other retreat toward his own chambers. 

 

Despair filled stupor sapped Seongwoo of his emotions as he reached his partition. He didn’t bother to check if Daniel had been following him; he feared that turning around would cause him to run to the other’s arms once again. The concubine could not afford losing himself in the other’s affections.

 

Ong’s thoughts halted momentarily.

 

Concubine, he’d thought of himself. It had happened just moments ago, but he’d already forgotten: he was not a concubine. Not anymore. 

 

For that sliver of time, he was just a man.

 

A man who had, perhaps, never known regret so intimately in his life.

 

It was over; the proverbial curtains had closed. The last grains of sand slipped down, to the bottom of the hourglass.

 

Nothing would ever be the same.


	29. I'm Right Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 29 WARNING(s): descriptions of vomiting, violence

“Mn…” Daniel stirred slightly. He adjusted himself, stretching his body with a yawn. A happy sigh left his lips, and he snuggled closer to the person with whom he shared a bed.

 

His majesty blinked his eyes open quickly. Initially, his vision presented nothing but darkness. Daniel squinted in hopes that his eyes would adjust quickly.

 

Seongwoo hadn’t fallen asleep next to him.

 

The King quite vividly remembered the other’s episode. A feeling of dread came over him at the recollection. In the middle of the night, he must have crept into his Master’s - no, his lover’s - bedroom. Daniel could vaguely feel the other who sat impossibly still. Sat. Not laid. A testament to his hesitancy. Perhaps he’d fallen asleep, Daniel mused, wanting to mend things in the morning.

 

“Seongwoo,” Daniel whispered, prodding the other’s hip. “Seongwoo, are you awake?”

 

He didn’t respond, but he did stiffen slightly. The King frowned. He wished he could at least look at the other’s face, burn those beautiful features into his memory for one of the last times he could. Much to his chagrin, not a single thing was visible in the shadowy room.

 

Daniel paused. His head whipped around. Darkness, utter and pure darkness. Not a single thing was discernible in the thick blackness that billowed throughout the space. The ruler groaned.

 

Under his breath, he muttered, “Where’s the damn striker?” He shuffled around slightly, trying to navigate his way out of his plush bed. The body next to him still hadn’t moved; he must have truly been asleep, Daniel thought. Though he felt guilty waking the other, truly righting things with the man was a priority of the King’s. He wanted to know Seongwoo would be okay. He needed it. A shiver ran down his majesty’s body upon leaving the safety and warmth of his covers. His tiles felt exceptionally cold against his bare feet, and he’d never bothered to dress after the night’s affairs.

 

“Too damn cold,” The King murmured, huddling his arms around himself. His brows knit together once more in confusion, and despite his inability to see, he looked in the direction of his fireplace.

 

“ _Clack_.”

 

Daniel froze, and his head turned toward the sound. Boots on tile. Had Seongwoo intended to leave in the night? Was he trying to give one last goodbye? His majesty’s heart ached sharply, he turned toward the sound of Seongwoo’s boots.

 

“Seongwoo,” He whispered, carefully padding across his floor, “Seongwoo- mmmhhfff!”

 

Suddenly, a hand clamped over the King’s face, pressing in a soaked rag forcefully. Daniel’s hands shot to the other person’s to pry them off. However, his efforts rapidly enfeebled. Sharp acidity stung his nostrils, and in combination with the pungent, musky bottom note, he felt suffocated.

 

“MMhhhhhhffhfhh! Shhhhshhhh-!” Daniel could feel his face go red with his strained exertions. His body quickly shut down, refusing to listen to his pleas.

 

“MMmhhffhhh!! Mfffhhh- MMmffhfhheooohhhhfff-” Tears stung his eyes before streaming down his face. “HFHhfhhghh… Mmmmffhhh…” Dizziness began taking over, sending him whirling. Though all he could see was black, the world mixed and melded around him. Colors and light splattered across his vision, and his body began to fall.

 

The body supporting him buckled slightly under his weight, and the two nearly fell to the ground. His assailant had, however, managed to catch him on time. The person seemed to struggle beneath his weight, though Daniel could hardly tell. He was barely capable of processing anything. The sound of boots slowly hitting the tile of his room entered his ears, muffled.

 

Daniel never remembered consciously closing his eyes. He hadn’t given thought as to whether the black was the darkness of his room or his own slipping consciousness. There was little ability to give thought to anything. A chuckle tickled the King’s ear.

 

None of the words made sense to Daniel. Little mattered, for soon all awareness flushed from his body, and he blacked out.

 

* * *

 

Pungent bitterness stuck to Daniel’s tongue, causing him to recoil. His face scrunched at the horrible, almost indescribable taste in his mouth. He could not begin to venture as to why it had been there. His eyes felt heavy. Impossibly heavy.

 

He tried to open them, but saw nothing. Just black. Nothing but black. Sounds milled about by his ears, as if they passed by without ever quite entering. He felt confused, dizzy, and so incredibly tired. God, he wondered, had he ever been so tired in his life? Everything felt strenuous, even the action of moving his tongue. It felt heavy in his mouth, like lead. The world shook and shambled around him; that he could feel.

 

Then: more exhaustion.

 

He wanted to sleep so badly. He’d had a terrible nightmare, though he could not remember it. His mind struggled to grasp at any explicit ideas or thoughts. Only mere hints of such alertness could be had. The lucidity teased him, brushing against his wary mind only to fly away before his laggard self could ever hope to take hold.

 

The taste lingering in his mouth truly disgusted him. He would have gagged had he the capacity.

 

He didn’t.

 

He didn’t have the capacity to do anything.

 

He fell back asleep.

 

* * *

 

“Splish- Drip, drip-”

 

The King’s throat contracts reflexively.

 

Something was being poured down it. A drink?

 

Daniel’s eyes shot open. He saw nothing but black. A desire to cry passed over him; his nightmare was not yet over. Was he drowning? He wondered. Perhaps it could explain everything. That seemed sound.

 

His thoughts became increasingly sluggish. Drowsiness dizzied him, pulling him under once more.

 

* * *

 

“...h….e….” Noises trickled into Daniel’s ears gradually. “H… F…. n…”

 

Nothing formed intelligible syllables, let alone words. They merely taunted the King, hovering just beyond the edge of his comprehension. His body felt as if it vibrated, buzzed even. Everything tingled, miniscule pins and needles poking at the surface of his skin. He remained cast in darkness.

 

Am I alive? He wondered.

 

A concrete thought. Progress. Slight departure from his hazed nightmare.

 

* * *

 

Daniel was shaken awake by a sudden jolt of movement. His entire body jerked, and loud scraping noises nearly deafened him. Per instinct, he tried to look around.

 

He saw nothing.

 

Suddenly, his majesty froze. He had the ability - the awareness and strength - to even move his head. He immediately opens his mouth the call out.

 

Nothing comes out.

 

A dull ache runs down the back of his throat in his attempt to croak. It hurts, it hurts so badly the pain stabs him and sends shockwaves down his spine. He vaguely feels his own face contort in an expression of agony, but it was not one he’d consciously produced. He hadn’t done anything consciously in…

 

How long had it been?

 

The King’s own body disobeyed him. His limbs stubbornly remained still, unmoveable, as if he’d been tethered to the earth. So many questions struggled to bubble to the surface, yet nothing stuck. They all drifted away, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand, much like his consciousness.

 

* * *

 

The world continued spinning though Daniel’s body stayed put. So few things managed to permeate the barriers of fog obscuring his mind from the world. He still had yet to discern on which side of the mortal plane he walked. Could one truly call the state he was in as “alive”?

 

He wished there was an end to it. It had happened an innumerable amount of times up to that point. Whatever it precisely could be called.

 

Daniel had lapsed in and out of awareness continuously. It could have been hours or days. His body continuously confined his soul, stubbornly keeping him bound to earth and rooted in a single spot while the world vibrated and shook around him. Time had elapsed, that he knew with certainty. What he could not discern was with what speed. A spike of fear lodged in his throat  He knew it had a reason for doing so, but had already lost the thought that had spurred it.

  
What else had he lost?

 

* * *

 

Light dazzled Daniel, and he had to squint as it assailed his eyesight. The King hissed at the abrupt illumination. He’d been in the dark for so long. His eyes soon came to focus on a silhouette looming above him. Just barely, Daniel could feel a hand tickling his cheek with a caress. His entire body keened at the sensation. Tears fell down Daniel’s face, but he cared little, blinking them away so he could better see his love.

 

“Hello, my darling,” Seongwoo’s voice - unlike any other sound he’d heard - rang out clear, like a song. The bright light from above encircled the man’s head like a halo.

 

“Seongwoo?” Daniel croaked. Though his tongue still felt heavy and his throat ached, he found himself capable of speaking. “Are- are you really here right now? Where is here- How- how long has it been? I-”

 

“Hush, do not overexert yourself,” The raven-haired man cut the King off. He stroked circles in Daniel’s cheek with his thumb.

 

“B-but Seongwoo, you were- and- and I was-”

 

“You needn’t worry about any of that. I am here now. Take rest.”

 

“All I have done is rest… I- I may be resting right now,” He said hoarsely, “I- Are you even real?”

 

Seongwoo chuckled and gave Daniel a smile, “You and I are real.” He replied. “Our love is real.”

 

“Our love? Seongwoo, are you saying-”

 

“Yes, Daniel. I love you.”

 

“I-” The King choked up, this time from joy instead of despair. “I love you, too, Seongwoo. I love you, too.” Seongwoo slowly bent down to press a kiss against Daniel’s lips. The King’s heart swelled in eagerness, but it fell flat.

 

His lips felt like nothing. It was as if they weren’t even there.

 

He felt numb.

 

* * *

 

Something was moving. No, someone. Him?

 

His body moved, but he didn’t. A trace of the acrid taste that had stained his tongue still remained, but it had subdued. At the very least, the minor improvement in condition gave him the slightest comfort.

 

Nothing could be seen, only bleak nothingness, but Daniel could tell that his world was in motion. He longed to know with what direction or purpose that motion was. A sound came in. Wind? Rain? Something shifting, moving things around him. Everything moved, including himself; just not of his own volition. He had neither control nor bearings of anything around him.

 

Despair heaped itself on top of him like a heavy cloak.

 

What about my people? He thought; My Kingdom? Please, God, end this soon. Should I be executed, draw it out no longer.

 

He deplored the nightmare God had thrust him into and longed to rise. That was all he asked: to wake, to truly wake. Direful limbo tugged at his consciousness to the point of nearly breaking his sanity. Most regretful was that he had only the power to do little more than cry out.

 

* * *

 

“Uhf…” A breathy sound left Daniel’s mouth as he roused for the umpteenth time. His entire body ached as if he’d tumbled down the side of a rocky cliff for hours on end. Even the mere action of wincing in pain caused a fresh wave to ripple throughout his entire body. Most notably sharp was the throbbing of his head. He wondered if the knocking on his temple was his consciousness demanding to be let back in. Gladly, he thought, please, come in. The next competitor for most brutalizing was the clawing sensation inside his stomach. His last memory of eating was in Castle Jeon. Pulsing blood rushed in his ears, and it drowned out almost any other sound he could have hoped to know. The hard floor beneath him gave him no comfort.

 

By reflex, the man’s eyes opened slowly. After so long being nearly sewn shut, the effort with which he pried them open was greater than he’d have liked. He expected very little other than proprietary sanity at the gesture. He’d seen nothing during his waking episodes for a long, long time. Or perhaps it had merely felt long. He could hardly tell.

 

Daniel’s eyes widened. Something had changed. A rough cloth had been tied tightly around his eyes, obscuring his vision; however, whatever covered them in that moment was, for some peculiar reason, significantly lighter. Relief flooded him as he began to make out somewhat legible shapes among the dim mess.

 

Immediately, Daniel jolted forward. The movement hadn’t been filled with explicit intention; he merely wanted a better grasp on his situation and himself.

 

“ _Clank_!”

 

A sound sharper than any he’d heard outside of his dreams echoed in whatever room or place he was in. The King tried to move again.

 

“ _Claank_!”

 

Apprehension dug thorny roots into his chest.

 

“ _Claank_ !” “ _Clank_ ! _Clank_ ! _Clank_ ! _Clank_!”

 

The man nearly strangled himself; struggling against the bindings hurt excruciatingly. Though he could not surmise why, his entire body resisted any movement, and the exertion made him lightheaded. Harsh buzzing filled his ears, and the world rocked around him unsteadily. He took pause for a moment to let his vision right itself. At the very least, he felt grateful for the clarity with which he thought. He hadn’t been able to do so much in far too long. He decided it best not to exert himself physically, not when his body still felt as if it had been sapped of all its strength.

 

Catching his breath, Daniel tried to study his surroundings and situation more closely in spite of his rising panic.

 

He began with an inventory of his extremities. He wiggled his fingers: they were the least sore part of him and all were attached.  His hands had been bound behind his back; when he moved his wrists, he felt coarse rope dig in. Next, he did the same with his toes (they, too, were all there). His ankles were also wrapped in coarse rope. He didn’t bother attempting to wriggle out. His mouth and throat still felt incredibly dry, and his lips chapped around the cloth that they’d tied around his mouth. The man could only guess as to the condition of the rest of his body. While he felt generally sore, as if he’d been roughed up, nothing in particular stuck out. When his legs rubbed together, something felt strange; slightly coarse but not like a rope. Cloth.

 

Awkwardly, Daniel bent back, trying to make his fingers meet any part of his legs. His suspicion had been confirmed: he’d been covered with breeches. In contrast, the slight draft he felt along the clammy skin of his chest felt cool and made his bare skin prick with goosebumps. It struck the royal as rather funny that people would capture him but be bothered by his nudity. He wondered what alignment of morals dictated such courtesies be taken for victims of assault. He took it as a consolation; a small one, but one he would take with graciousness no less.

 

Everything spun again briefly, and Daniel’s body swayed with it. He’d been poisoned, that much he could conclude. With what he did not know. Whatever the stuff had been, the perpetrators had formulated it masterfully. Even the stretching of his lungs against his ribcage pained him. He felt sick.

 

Daniel decided he ought to sit up.

 

With considerable time and effort, he achieved just that. His face twisted and flinched in pain as he gradually sat himself up right. He sat back on his heels, and another wave of dizziness threatened to topple him once more. Determinedly, Daniel stayed sitting up. He focused intensely on remaining in his position for a number of minutes, staring at a fixed spot through the cloth.

 

When his nausea had diminished, Daniel started to scrutinize what he could. The place was dim, but there was light. There must have been a lantern, maybe two. Few things adorned the space. There was no furniture or decor to speak of, only the floor beneath him which, feeling it more, seemed to be wood. Its condition was serviceable, little more could be said of it. Muffled noises still crackled and tapped inside Daniel’s ears, causing him no comfort. He wagers that, along with the poisoning, he’d been knocked in the head. A hit with something blunt in the temple or ear could result in long-term disorientation, that he knew.

 

The King turned his head and body with the utmost care. The last thing he wanted was to fight off yet another wave of ill sensations. Everything the man did was as slow as it was purposeful, and he took in every shifty silhouette his eyes could discern.

 

His heart stopped abruptly.

 

A lump of sick rose in his throat, but he swallowed it down. Shudders ran down his body as he squinted to scrutinize the form further.

 

It was a man.

 

There was another man there, with him, laying on the floor.

 

At least, it was shaped like a man. The cloth did not show much, but he could tell the human form apart from the floor.  


“Hhheh,” Daniel tried to speak, forgetting that he’d been gagged. His heart pounded. He had no way of telling if the man was dead or alive, what they’d done to him, who they were. Nerves began stacking on top of him with alarming quickness. The man didn’t stir. “Hhehhloh?”

 

Still nothing.

 

Daniel’s mind immediately crept to the worst possible place: What if he was dead?

 

Before he could contemplate it too much, more sounds began trickling into his ears. He tried his best to discern them, but his head still swam.

 

Quickly, the noises grew louder. Along with their increased volume came increased clarity. Daniel felt relieved that he could perceive the sounds but terrified upon understanding them. They were voices. Human voices growing nearer from somewhere behind him. His head swung slowly in their direction, and fuzzy shapes descended a set of steps he hadn’t even been aware of.

 

“...m… ick… f… im…!”

 

“-o! You… ke… of… im!”

 

“Ugh… and dwe… ...oss!”

 

“HHeh!” Daniel called out to them. Friend or foe, he didn’t care. He needed an explanation, to be untied, and to know his loved ones were okay, that his kingdom was okay. Even with a faint ring along with other strange popping noises filling his ears, Daniel could hear the mysterious silhouettes clearly. When they’d all descended the steps, he could slightly make them out - three rather small ones and one taller (though not by much). The shorter ones all had bulkier silhouettes. Their heads, however, appeared relatively small, and Daniel wondered if it was, in fact, clothing, not flesh, that gave them bulk. One of the short figures held something. Daniel couldn’t tell. The other body was unceremoniously tossed onto the ground in front of them. It hid the floor with a loud thud which made Daniel wince in sympathy.

 

Finally, one spoke. He could understand their words - or, more precisely, understand that they were saying words. Yet, he could not recognize a single one. They were speaking another language.

 

“Oooff,” The person who’d been dumped onto the ground groaned. Daniel’s attention immediately snapped to them - to him. Even though all the person had done was groan, something about it sounded incredibly familiar.

 

One of the silhouettes said something sharply - it sounded like a curse - and squatted over by the man who had groaned in apparent pain. The silhouette crouching by him was the one who held a strange shape. They slammed the shape down next to the man.

  
“ _Boooooooonnnnggg_!”

 

It hit the floor with a loud, metallic noise which ricocheted riotously off the walls.

 

“In the pot,” The crouching silhouette said. Daniel’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected one of his captors to be a woman - a young sounding one at that. The ailing prisoner on the floor needed no further prompting to lift himself onto his elbows. He violently heaved, coughing up little more than bile into the “pot” as she’d called it. “Ugh- You’re disgusting. It shocks me you can even spill more sick. What is there left in ya?” Her language was accented, but easily understandable.

 

“You!” Another silhouette pointed at Daniel (at least, he guessed they were pointing judging by the vague movement of shapes). He was less concerned with the pointing and more occupied by the figure’s voice. Another girl? It seemed improbable. “Don’t tell me you’re going to get sick too. I really can’t handle more than one of ya like this right now. This one’s been like a damn waterfall since we got him. Couldn’t even keep him gagged-”

 

“Iihh cahh tah-” Daniel croaked out.

 

“What’s that?” Silhouette number two - the one who’d addressed him - asked.

 

“I cc-cahh ttahh…” The King tried to speak.

 

“Oh motherfu- Yua can we take his out too? I swear on me mum’s grave if we have to clean up another mess like his-”

 

“Just take it off, Miko. Surely him yellin’ or cryin’ won’t be too big an issue. We can always shut him up if he gets too noisy again,” Person number three, yet another woman, responded. It shocked Daniel that he’d been apprehended so easily by a group of young sounding women, but there were infinitely more pressing matters at hand.

 

The person who’d pointed at him, Miko as she’d been called, approached the King. He recoiled, fleeing in the opposite direction by instinct. Panic flared in his chest, and sweltering tears stung his eyes.

 

“Oh, stop it! You lot are so dramatic, I’m just takin’ this bit off. Why can’t you two be more like him-” The form of her shadowy, obscured head turned toward the other person who’d been imprisoned. The unconscious one. “He’s been asleep the whole time. I’ve grown quite fond of him. Real well behaved, him, and his-”

 

“Miko, that’s enough,” The person who’d been referred to as Yua barked.

 

“I’m just tryin’ to have a nice conversation. You’re no fun!” Miko pouted toward the apparent leader as her hands worked at the knot keeping Daniel gagged. The cloth slackened, and the captor pulled it off, tossing it aside.

 

The first thing Daniel did was close his mouth, and immense relief flooded him. The sides of his lips cracked painfully, and his mouth felt dry. He anticipated that his voice would not return to its typical self for quite awhile.

 

Miko repeated her inquiry,“Alright, now tell me, have we got to get you a pot to retch in, too?” As if to illustrate her statement, the man behind her gagged again, hacking and coughing in such a way that it even sounded extremely painful. Daniel’s stomach roiled just hearing it.

 

He considered the question; the world continued to subtly whirl and sway, but it had gotten better. He felt confident in his ability to acclimate himself. More crucially, he did not trust the woman in front of him in the least.

 

“No,” Daniel replied hoarsely.

  
Suddenly, the man who’d spent the past few minutes sick called out, “Daniel?” His voice sounded wrecked; he’d likely abused his throat even more violently than daniel with all the illness. Still, even with a tone as gravelly as the one with which he spoke: Daniel could recognize the man anywhere.

 

“Jihoon!” Daniel called out. He flinched at the throat pain it caused.

 

“I- Oh my God,” Jihoon’s voice rapidly grew thick, on the brink of sobbing, “You’re- you’re here? You’re alive?”

 

“Here? Where is here? Do you know where here is?!” Daniel hacked and cough at the uncomfortable reacclimation to spoken speech.

 

“I- No, I- ugh, shit, I feel so sick,” Jihoon groaned. “I’m sorry, I’ve… I’ve failed you.” A choked cry echoed in the room.

 

“Jihoon- No, not at all I just- I cannot make sense of any of this, and- and-”

 

“This is better than an old tragedy, innit Moko?” Miko laughed. Moko, the one who’d been hunched over by Jihoon, answered.

 

“We ought to pop some corn!” The other two girls giggled.

 

“This is not a laughing matter!” Daniel roared. He clenched his teeth to bear the pain. The strange room went eerily quiet.

 

Then rapturous laughter filled the space, bouncing off of the cramped walls indefinitely. The three women who’d captured them laughed mirthfully, one even doubling over to stop herself from collapsing. When the caterwaul died down the leader, Yua (Daniel labored to memorize his names in case it would serve as useful later), spoke.

 

“I’m sorry I- this is just a very touching reunion is all,” Her voice quaked with repressed laughs.

 

“Y-you think this is funny?” Daniel’s throat scratched as he responded, but he didn’t care. He cast aside his pain and fear in pursuit of what he needed most: answers. It was very unlike him to get angry, but in spite of his vulnerability, fury boiled up within him. “I am a King of the most powerful nation on the continent. Do you understand what a powerful enemy you have just made?!”

 

A prolonged snort came in response from Yua, and Daniel could even see her hand brace on her hip as she crumbled downward. Another hearty laugh filled the small chamber they’d been confined to - some holding cell, Daniel concluded.

 

“Mn…” A groan sounded out coming from neither Jihoon nor the captors. Daniel’s head snapped in the direction of the other person present (who was, apparently, alive).

 

“Who is that?”

 

“Mh… _Shit_ ,” The man hissed.

 

“Jisung?! J-Jisung is that you?” Daniel called to the other. He tried to ignore the ever present pounding in his head.

 

“Jisung?!” Jihoon mimicked.

 

“Yua!” Miko called out, throwing her hands up enthusiastically.

 

“Moko!” Yua said.

 

“Miko?! Is- is that you,” Moko called out dramatically, extending her hand toward the others. Another round of laughter erupted between the trio, stirring Daniel’s nerves further.

 

“Enough,” Daniel said through gritted teeth.

 

“Heh, Dah-iel… Hello…” Jisung slurred out.

 

“See? As I’d told you, the model of good behavior!” Miko chirped. The three were incredibly upbeat for savage captors. It unsettled Daniel deeply.

 

“Do you truly intend on telling me nothing? Nothing at all?” Daniel asked, galled, “After- after dragging me God knows where for- for I don’t even know how long and I-, ugh-”

 

“I told you to get another pot, Moko!” Yua groaned in response to Daniel’s wavering.

 

The King shook off the swaying nausea rising in his throat before continuing, “Why? Can you at least tell me why you have done this!?”

 

“We are indeed physically capable, yes,” Yua answered primly.

 

“Who are you people?” Daniel trudged onward, asking questions demandingly. “Why have you taken three of the highest ranking members of the Kang Court?!”

 

“Oh, bother,” Moko muttered.

 

“I’m just waiting for him to stop,” Miko added.

 

The King continued stubbornly, “Have you taken anyone else?”

 

Moko piped up,“Actually-”

 

“Shut up, will ya?” Yua cut in.

 

Daniel’s soul soured, “The concubines… You haven’t… Seongwoo? Have you- You haven’t taken Seongwoo, have you?”

 

“Haven’t what?” Miko asked.

 

“C-Concubines?” Jihoon uttered. His voice grew thick, “C-concub- Oh, God.”

 

Moko nudged the object in front of him,“The pot is right there-”

 

“My Guanlin,” Jihoon said, barely a whisper. “M-my Guanlin. Oh, God my Guanlinie.” His voice quickly grew in volume, filling the entire space.

 

“Guanlin!” Suddenly, General Park wailed loudly. One of the captors even put her hands to her ears, flinching at the sudden loudness. Jisung’s body stirred ever so slightly, but he still appeared too far gone to properly understand what was going on.

 

“M-m-my Guanlinie,” Jihoon’s voice quaked with sobs. Even through his blindfold, Daniel could tell the other’s face had scrunched up as he cried. “H-he- he- he was mad at me and I never got to make it right and- and now he’s gone-”

 

“Oh for shit’s sake,” Moko groaned.

 

“You don’t know- You don’t know what- what I’ve done,” Jihoon sniffled between phrases, “I- I ruined everything. Everyone I love I’ve- I’ve destroyed or- or pushed away- Please just- Oh, God I- I- He-” The General’s chest began heaving with the increased intensity of his songs. “Guanlin, oh my Guanlinie- I just wanted to get it right with him I- I wanted him to have a chance at a happy life and- and- He’s going to be auctioned off if I am pronounced d-d-dead-”

 

“Okay, Okay,” Moko crouched down again, patting Jihoon on the back, “If it’ll help you shut the hell up, I can fetch you something stro-”

 

“ _Crack_!”

 

The captor staggered for a second before teetering back on her heels and falling backwards. Daniel’s eyes widened; he hardly believed the (half-obscured) sight. Jihoon had lured the captor in with purpose: to knock her out.

 

Yua gasped,“Wh- You sobbed! You little shi-” Jihoon burst up. His ankles had, apparently, been unbound. He stumbled slightly, but found is footing, and kicked another one of the captors back.

 

“Oof!” Yua flew back into the nearest wall with a loud, painful sounding thud. “H-How rude!” She reeled slightly from the air being swiftly ejected from her lungs.

 

General Park spared no seconds in his rushed escape. He leapt to close the distance between himself and Yua, turning around to use his bound hands. Deftly, he grabbed something off of her person. The long, slender form had to be a sword. Miko, the last girl standing, threw her hands up in defeat.

 

“Alright, alright. I know when I’ve been bested - we all do.”

 

Jihoon didn’t reply verbally. He finnicked with the short sword awkwardly; after a few moments, his arms spread. He’d cut his ties. Swiftly, he took a firm grip on the sword with one of his hands, pointing it toward the other girl. Yua remained a groaning mess, and she’d slid down the wall shortly after getting knocked into it. Moko hadn’t stirred since getting knocked on the head.

 

General Park, sword extended, reached out toward Miko. His hands seemed to rifle around until extracting something that noisily clinked. With shaky fingers, the young military officer searched the keyring to find one that matched what he wished to unlock. The man approached Daniel, working with immense haste at the neck binding that kept him chained to the wall.

 

“ _Clink- clink_!”

 

Suddenly, Daniel’s neck felt immensely lighter. His instinctual urge to move was dampened by the waves of discomfort that whispered in his bones, but he ignored them. His senses kicked into overdrive as Jihoon cut his other bindings and his blindfold.

  
Finally, Daniel thought, I can see. See he did. He realized he hadn’t missed much with the obscurification on. The room was dark, dank, and had few lanterns. Everything appeared to be wooden like the floor, with some wrought iron reinforcements and fixtures (such as the ones binding people to the wall). The three captors looked significantly younger than he would have thought three bandits to be. Getting a quick glance at their faces, they almost appeared too young; it seemed pitiable that such fairness was wasted on a life of crime. However, his majesty gave little consideration or care to thate line of thought. He had one priority and one only: survival.

 

Jihoon, one step ahead of the man, grabbed his wrist and started running. His feet occasionally bumped and stumbled, but Daniel knew no better option. The two dashed as quickly as their tired, poison ridden bodies would allow them to, not turning back.

 

* * *

 

“Ugh, the slimy bastards,” Yua groaned, coming to herself a few minutes after their new guests’ departure.

 

Miko clucked her tongue,“Shouldn’t have underestimated that General. You’ve heard the stories, haven’t ya? The briefs?”

 

“You’re right, it was careless,” Yua rose lackadaisical, stretching her body in the process, “Well, I suppose they can have a head start. Let them have hope for a little bit and such.”

 

“I’m not worried about us losing them, though,” Miko said, “I’m worried about what happens if they’re out and about, though. If they wreak havoc he’ll kill us, especially if the cute one does it.”

 

“Shit… You’re right. Come on then, Miko, let’s round them up,” Yua said, pouting. They both eyed Moko and exchanged irked expressions.

 

“Hey, Moko, you alright?” Miko asked. She skipped over to the other’s limp body and nudged her with her boot.

 

“Mnnn… ‘M fine…” Moko groaned. Her body didn’t stir.

 

Miko shrugged, looking at Yua, “Well, guess she’ll be alright, and- Oh,” Her attention was diverted elsewhere. King Daniel’s Advisor, Yoon Jisung, still laid on his side, bound and dazed. “Oh, no. They’ve left him. Isn’t that- isn’t that sad?”

 

“Oh that poor thing,” Yua looked at Jisung and gave him a pitying shake of the head, “It’s alright, honey. Every group has one- the one that’s left behind that is.”

 

“Yeah, guess we know who the odd man out is here.”

 

“That’s rough.”

 

The two indulged in making digs at Advisor Yoon’s importance to the Kang monarchy for nearly a minute longer before finally tiring of it. Even in his compromised state, the two can detect a look of scorn on his face.

 

“Well, off to collect ‘em, then,” Yua said, heading toward the stairs. “Moko, keep an eye on this one.”

 

“Yes… _Ma’am_!” Moko slurred. Her arm shot up from her body, and she flashed the other two a hand gesture signalling “okay”.

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel crashed into a wall with a loud, hollow thud. Before he could fully understand what had happened, a strong force pulled him forward.

 

“We… We can’t stop,” Jihoon wheezed, guiding the two forward.

 

“What is this place?” Daniel asked as he trailed behind the other. The two had ascended the steps quickly, and the King trusted his General’s judgement enough to guide him. Everything looked the same. They’d turned a few corners and even climbed another creaky, wooden staircase, but they felt as if they’d ended up in the place from which they came. Each corridor was dark and shockingly narrow. The two fleeing prisoners wavered, frequently bumping into the wooden boards.

 

“A fortress of sorts is my best guess. Narrow corridors, a room outfitted to hold prisoners...” Jihoon said. He clung to Daniel’s hand with a vice grip, urging him forward. “Shit-” He stumbled, tripping over something, and his majesty nearly fell face first onto the ground due to the sudden jolt.

 

“I feel as if the Earth itself is not sitting right… What have they done to us, Jihoon?”

 

“Potent poison can be disorienting, focus on following me, and we will get through this.”

 

“ _Thuuudd_!!”

 

The sound followed a forceful kick from General Park. A door slammed open, crashing against the wall it had careened too.

 

“Fuck. Noisier than expected,” Jihoon muttered. He yanked Daniel through the threshold.

 

The place they’d entered felt much more open, but the space came as a double edged sword. Only tiny slivers of light emitted from the walls and ceiling provided respite from the shadows. Even with shapes and lines zig-zagging at the outside of his vision, Daniel could make out shapes in the darkness.

 

“Light,” Jihoon said. “There’s light above.”

 

“A… A way out of here?”

 

“Perhaps, but- Shh,” Jihoon paused, shushing the King. They waited, still.

 

“ _Creaaak_ .” “ _Thud. Thud-_ ” “ _Creaak- thud- creak-_ ”

 

“Footsteps?” Daniel asked. “How… How many?” Every thought that passed his mind and left his lips took immense effort; still, Daniel felt grateful he had the propensity to even express them. He felt his mind had been covered in rust, as if his consciousness had stiffened from extensive rest. Despite the avid protest from his body, Daniel made the utmost effort to use his wits.

 

The two remained silent for another few minutes, listening to the sounds from above. The creaking and thudding would start, cease, then start again. It sounded like a few people, but wasn’t thunderous. In their current states, neither could adequately handle more than one or two unless given immense favor with the element of surprise. Even so, triumphing in an all out brawl seemed unlikely and unprudent.

 

Slowly, Jihoon guided Daniel across the room. Occasionally his foot would bump or brush something, causing noise to echo out in the empty, dark room. With each little creak or knocking sound, a little instance of panic erupted inside the King’s chest. He felt resigned, knowing that all the two could do was move forward. He needed to return home, to his Kingdom. To Seongwoo.

 

“ _Creak_!”

 

“A way up,” Jihoon whispered. The worn wood buckled beneath the two as they ascended the stairs slowly. With each step they took, the very room around them seemed to groan in protest. Wherever they were, Daniel concluded that it must have been old to creak and stutter so. Little bumps and clangs sounded out as Jihoon felt around above himself. They’d, apparently, reached a barrier - the ceiling. “There’s a door here,” The General muttered. The sound of footsteps still clacked above them.

 

“Shit,” His majesty cursed, laggard mind attempting to piece together a solution of sorts. “How are we to get past that. Perhaps we ought to find another way.”

 

“No need to be hasty. Those guards are likely on our tails. We need to move fast, decisively. Let me… Let me sneak a peek.” With incredible care, General Park lifted the door above them open. He only allowed the tiniest sliver to be ajar - just enough for him to look out of. Even the tiny slice of low light caused Daniel’s eyes to sting.

 

Tension wrapped itself around Daniel’s heart as he watched the General’s observation. The man pressed his face closely to the opening, taking in as much as he possibly could. Steps still clacked against the floorboards above them. Any false move or extraneous sound could give them away. Soon, the pumping of anxious heartbeats filled Daniel’s ears. It made it even more difficult to distinguish every little detail and noise, and he tried his best to swallow it down. Finally, Jihoon closed the door softly. He whispered his account to the other.

 

“It is another open room much like this. People are… People are passing. I dare not look at faces - not that I would recognize anyone. Those walking are passing through. It- it doesn’t appear to be patrols. There are, um, some barrels and- and other things. Rope? Cloth? Supplies, I suppose. Straight in front of where this door leads is another stairwell. I saw light coming from it. The light, it looked bright and- and- natural.”

 

“Sunlight,” Daniel commented.

 

“Yes, a way outside. We can wait for steps to disappear then- uff- then run.”

 

“Jihoon,” The King frowned. He stroked the other’s hand with his thumb, “Are you going to be alright? Are you feeling okay?”

 

“God, no,” The General choked out a chuckle, “I feel ill, but I’ll survive. I count it as a blessing, my body so thoroughly rejecting this poison. You needn’t worry about me. If any one of us ought to be an object of concern, it is you. I- I’m sorry I haven’t even asked-”

 

“I’m alive. That’s what counts, isn’t it? My limbs feel as if they’ve been replaced with lead, and my head throbs, but… None of that is important right now.” Jihoon squeezed Daniel’s hand and nodded (a gesture he could just barely make out in the darkness).

 

Suddenly, other muffled sounds drifted into the room but not from above. Voices carried from the corridor they’d been in, filling out the hollow, open space that they occupied.

 

“...ome out your majesty!” It was one of their captors.

 

Daniel bit back a swear as he jostled Jihoon’s arm with urgency. The General merely froze. Their footsteps became closer with each passing second - more than one set, Daniel concluded.

 

“There’s no way they could have gotten far,” One - Yua, Daniel believed, said.

 

“We’re going to be in so much trouble if they cause trouble,” Another, Miko, groaned.

 

“Where do you think they’ve gone? Maybe they’re hiding.”

 

“Where? The hall is a straight shot until you reach the other end. Unless…”

 

Daniel’s blood froze. Their voices began pouring in through the open door, the one Jihoon had kicked in so loudly.

 

“What is it?”

 

“This door, Yua! It’s been kicked in.”

 

“Kicked in? There’s no way either of them could do that as they are… Right?”

 

The loud clacking of boots on board rang out in the room. The room that they had fled to.

 

“It’s dark in here,” Yua groaned, “Miko, grab one of the lanterns from the hall!”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” The other captor obliged.

 

Extreme fright seized Daniel’s senses. The two had mere seconds before being discovered again; they had to act swiftly. The King squeezed the General’s hand with white knuckles to signal that they had to go in haste. General Park did not need prompting. As the guard stepped into the room, lantern dangling from her hand, he bolted.

 

Yua quirked an eyebrow as the lantern’s light filled the room,“Oh, look who I’ve fou- hey! Stop running!”

 

That was all Daniel could hear as the two burst through the door above him. Everything else blurred around him. Had there been people or obstacles, he could not tell. The only thing he could decisively sense was General Park dragging him onward. Blurred visions of wood, faces, lanterns, and other vague shapes and objects passed in his peripheral vision; all he truly saw was the back of Jihoon’s head. The two nearly toppled over due to their hastened movement, but by some miracle they remained upright.

 

A muffled caterwaul burst out in their wake. Jihoon found another set of steps and quickly ascended them, yanking Daniel along as he did so. More people's’ attentions were roused, and the two started to garner attention. Neither particularly cared, focused on moving forward.

 

“Hey!” “What the hell?” “Uh-oh.” “Someone go get them!” “Miss Yua, they went that way!” “Where are they going?” “Shit.” “What’s going on?!” “Somebody stop them.”

 

Jihoon threw open another door, landing the two in a vast, open space. Sunlight shone through the cracks above them with even more fervor than the last room. They were close. Bare feet on wood followed by loud boots roared throughout the massive space. Neither King nor General took any care or consideration to inspecting their surroundings. Go, go, go, that was all the two thought.

 

Daniel’s head spun, and he wanted so badly to collapse from the exertion. Stubbornly, he pressed on. His head filled with thoughts of leaving, questions as to what had happened, and overflowing concern for his Kingdom and beloved. He wanted so badly to get back to them. He needed to.

 

“ _Craaaaashh_!”

 

The final door opened by Jihoon slammed against the floor above it loudly. The sound shot into Daniel’s ears and left them ringing. He felt himself get lugged upward. His feet stumbled blearily upon emergence.

 

Light.

 

Blinding light.

 

All he could see, all he could feel, was blazing sunlight flooding his vision. Something ripped and roared in his ears; he could no longer tell what sounds or splotches of color he saw were real and which were poison induced hallucinations. Things felt somehow louder yet infinitely more quiet at the same time. Though there was still sound surrounding them, it no longer bounced frantically off of confined walls; instead, it floated off into open air.

 

“Oof-” Daniel bumped into Jihoon all of a sudden. The impact made him reel, and he nearly fell onto his ass. Gradually, the dazzling sunlight diminished in the King’s eyesight, and he could see again. Looking in front of him, he saw Jihoon, at the end of his rope.

 

General Park lumbered forward a few more steps before collapsing onto his knees.

 

“Jihoon!” Daniel rushed to his side, nearly tripping himself. He could vaguely hear yelling behind him. Their pursuers were almost upon them. Yet, he could not care. Something was wrong with the General.

 

Everything was wrong with his life.

 

“Jihoon, are you okay?” Sounds competed for King Daniel’s attention: hollering, crashing, clicking, banging - they all filled his ears, causing him to feel a fresh wave of illness once more.

 

The General laughed wryly; he turned to laugh wryly, a tear running down his cheek, “Look around, Daniel.” He said, his voice thick with oncoming sobs. However, before any cries could leave his mouth, he hunched over, violently dry heaving once more.

 

“Wh- Wha…” It dawned on Daniel that he hadn’t taken in their surroundings, so he did just as he’d been told.

 

The King’s head darted around confusedly.

 

His heart dropped onto the ground, shattering into millions of pieces.

 

The man went limp, unable to even pull a look of despair onto his features. He felt everything and nothing at the same time. No longer could he know how to feel. The world spun as did he; the outer edges of his vision began to close into a narrow tunnel as he saw everything. He looked to his left at the far horizon.

 

Water.

 

He looked to his right.

 

Water.

 

Behind him:

 

Yelling people. Water.

 

In front:

 

A towering mast. Water.

  
Water. Water. Water.

  
Water. Water.

 

Water.

 

Vast, unending, deep, blue water.

 

Running down his face in hot streams:

  
Water.

 

Loud buzzing filled Daniel’s ears as his body dropped onto the ground. His vision blurred, and shapes flooded it, obscuring the gleaming sunlight.

 

“What’s the matter? The water’s fine this time of year!” One of the women who’d kept them captive snarked from behind them. The other captors - and those who’d come to gander at the commotion - broke out into raucous laughter.

 

Abruptly, the din stopped.

 

Loud, steady footsteps clacked against the wooden boards beneath. Hushed murmurs broke out in their wake; they almost sounded awed. Daniel blinked the tears out of his eyes and turned toward them, swallowing down the anxious blockage in his throat. The person walking toward him walked with a confident, steady pace. They seemed relaxed, almost excessively so, meandering toward his majesty as if it was a mere trifle. Steady clacking mixed with crashing waves filled Daniel’s ears. All he could do was watch on as the person neared.

 

When Daniel’s vision righted itself, he looked the imposing figure up and down, starting at their boots. They were black. Well worn, but not in tatters. His breeches were equally as worn and billowed out from his skinny body. Above it, the man wore leather belts. Each had been fixed with pockets and pouches of various types. A sheathed sword hung at his waist. Above the belts a vivid sash had been wrapped. The textile was slightly luminous and caught the sunlight, reflecting every color of the rainbow. Clearly, the person was a man. His linen shirt had been left untied at the placket and billowed out from his torso. An ornate black jacket decorated with criss-crossing pintucks sat atop his shoulders.

 

When the man reached the King, the whispering behind him grew more frenzied. Three figures lined up behind him in a row, each looking down sheepishly. Daniel squinted, the bright sunlight still jarring to his sensitive eyes. He finally looked up at the man’s face.

 

His jaw dropped open at the shock of recognition. He started shaking his head.

 

“No, no- it’s it’s you. No- no, no, no, no, no, I- I- We welcomed you into our Kingdom,” Daniel’s chest began bobbing up and down erratically with labored breath. He sputtered out words, nonsensically, “You were- you were- welcomed to our- our home, and- And all this time, you-”

 

“Hush,” The man lilted, his voice soothing as ever. He sighed, turning to the three women who stood behind him, “How did this happen?!”

 

“We made a mistake and underestimated them. We cannot apologize enough, sir!” Yua said. All three bowed deeply in contrition.

 

The man groaned, wringing a hand down his face, “Take that one-” He pointed at Jihoon, “-back to the brig. Keep him separated from the other one this time, and you…” He glanced at Daniel, “I’ll watch over you myself.”

 

“Bu- but- but- I- You- you- you-” Everything swirled and swam for Daniel, but he held onto consciousness with all his might. Nothing made sense and everything hurt; all he wanted was answers, but he’d been giving nothing but more questions. The man in the black jacket roughly took a fistful of the King’s hair, tugging him up. Daniel winced at the rough treatment, completely at loss.

 

The man in black began dragging the downcast royal across the deck, chuckling, “I told you, malachite is a stone of dramatic change, your highness.”

 

* * *

 

Daniel winced in pain as two goons tightened the fresh set of bindings around his ankles. Once again, his vision had been covered, and he’d been plunged into darkness. Save for tiny cracks of light at the edge of his sight, he saw nothing. Upon being dragged, the King hadn’t recalled or noticed any steep inclines or steps; he concluded that he’d been taken somewhere on the same level as the deck. Anxiety, worry, and anguish all toiled in his chest. The only comfort Daniel could take was the fact that he hadn’t been gagged again; it also relieved him that he no longer felt the poison’s effects so strongly.

 

The man - Seer Holland - sighed. Though the King could not see him, he could hear the indignant tapping of his boot against the floor.

 

“What interest does a seer have in a King?” Daniel asked, irate. He wanted answers. Though he doubted they would be given easily, he hoped that, perhaps, he could provoke something out of the man called “Holland”.

 

“Tch,” The diviner scoffed, not giving into the other.

 

“We allowed you to practice at our Castle Grounds - a sacred place - and you repay us like this? Tell me, is this some sort of squabble? A bitterness at the- the disrespect of your profession? Is this what this is? Some fit of-”

 

“Oh my God- shut the hell up!” Holland finally cracked, sounding incredibly annoyed. “You know nothing!”

 

“I can discern enough about you, Holland.”

 

“Fucking hell- I- That’s not even my name you dolt! Are you daft enough to think I would give you my actual name? And- and stop with this talk of spiritual disagreements. I am _not_ a damn fortune teller! Though... It was rather fun to play the part.”

 

“What am I supposed to believe?!”

 

“Holland? Really? That’s a ridiculous thing! Who would name their child Holland?” The man laughed. “If you really must so desperately know, my name is Taeseob. So please stop calling me Holland.”

 

“Taesob,” Daniel repeated it, “Good to know. I shall remember it well when I bury you.” He strained against the rough ropes tied tightly around his ankles and wrists. Unfortunately, he accomplished little more than burning his skin. While his majesty had been trained in combat, he lacked the quick sense that Jihoon had for it.

 

“Mhm, of course you will, darling,” Footsteps grew closer to Daniel. For a moment, the prisoner braced himself for a whipping. Instead, the man’s steps went past him, and he started whispering loudly with the guards about something. Daniel strained his ears in hopes that he could glean knowledge of what they spoke of.

 

“...et the Captain. I know- I know... -be pissed but that’s the only way we can… Now!” A door opened, and a set of steps bounded outward, shutting it behind him. Holland - no, Taesob - returned to his post (wherever that was).

 

“Who else have you captured?” Daniel asked first.

 

“If you must know - since it really is of no consequence anyway - there are a… few more,” He seemed to relish in teasing the other man.

 

“A few? Who? Nobles? Commoners? M-My family?! Answer me!”

 

“Oh, quite the demanding one, aren’t we? Shit,” Taesob muttered under his breath, “Where is he?”

 

“Where is who? Who are you? Who is he- who is anyone?! Where are my friends? My family?! My- my loved one. The Baes!” Dismayed confusion clawed at Daniel’s chest, throat, and stomach. It tore at him from within, raking at his dwindling nerves.

 

Taesob chuckled, “Oh we’ve welcomed quite a few new guests onto our vessel. I mean, for starters, we’ve got you - esteemed guest that you are. The prodigal King of the Kang Kingdom. Isn’t that nauseating, saying that? King, Kang, kingdom - God I’m sick of it already.”

 

“Quite a few? How- how many? Answer me!” Daniel seethed. He wanted to jump at the man and strangle him, to kick and stream and demand answers. He wanted to know his loved ones were okay.

 

“There it is again! That royal sense of entitlement. Even tied up you think I am obligated to answer. Of course, I am a generous man, and, well…” Daniel could almost hear the man grin wickedly, “Perhaps there are some more acquaintances of yours here. Maybe even a… Oh what’s that dreadful name you’ve got for your slaves - ah! A concubine.”

 

Daniel lunged at the man before actual thought came through. He hit the floor with a resounding thud, yet another flurry of aches ripping across his body. Grief and rage twisted inside of him, battling for dominance over his heart.

 

“Where is he?” Daniel said through gritted teeth.

 

“I feel inclined to ask the same thing,” Taesob replied facetiously, “Where is that damn deck boy I’d told to deliver the message?”

 

“You know who I speak of.”

 

“Do I?”

 

“Enough!” Daniel yelled. Face scrunching with exertion, he brought his body upright into a sitting position once more. The people who’d rebound him had made certain to confine his limbs tightly. “This is not funny! This is not a game! Do you think my people are going to stand by idly knowing their King is missing?! You may laugh now, but soon a reckoning will come so great that you will be telling fortunes in hell!”

 

“I am not a fortune teller for God’s-” The man sighed in exasperation, “I will gag you again if needed. Do not push me.”

 

“Where is Seongwoo?”

 

“ _What_?”

 

“Where is Seongwoo?”

 

“Again with your demands.”

 

“I will stop making them when I know he is,” A sob choked Daniel momentarily, but he kept it at bay, “He is a-alive and- and well.”

 

“Listen you royal prick, you are not entitled to anything so long as you are in captivity!”

 

“You have separated me from my love. I will not stop until I know he is okay.”

 

“Your- shit - Your love? Your _love_?!” His voice raised, bouncing off of the walls of whatever room he’d dragged the other to. “He was your prisoner! Love,” Taesob scoffed.

 

“I care not if you misunderstand or misjudge us-”

 

“Misjudge?!” The captor huffed, “I could kill you for saying such outrageous things. You kept him by your side like a fucking pet. Even dressed him in a little collar so the entire world knew he belonged to you- of course, he wasn’t only yours, was he?”

 

“You’re blathering,” Daniel fired back. Intense guilt and shame crammed itself down his throat, melting into the sickness and pain caused by his agonized anger.

 

“No, he wasn’t all yours because you saw fit to share, didn’t you? You let that filthy Duke put his hands all over him because not only was he a pet,” Taesob’s voice grew louder with each word, more enraged, “He was a fucking. Bargaining chip! Because that’s what people are to you lot, isn’t that right? Bargaining chips- currency- some expendable resource you can throw around and spare for your gain!”

 

“Stop it!” Daniel shouted back. His heart ached, “That is not what Seongwoo is to me! I’ve made mistakes, but it matters not. What matters is that we- we love each other, and now I don’t even know if he is alive. Please-”

 

“You’re loony is what you are.”

 

Daniel huffed, shaking his head, “When my military gets ahold of you-”

 

“That’s it, I’m gagging you. You have lost your right to speech.”

 

“-they will not punish the capture of their King mercifully.”

 

“Stop calling yourself that.”

 

“I will call myself by my rightfully ordained title,” Daniel’s entire body shook with sweltering anger. He wished so badly to free himself of his binds and watch the life leave the man’s eyes in front of him as he strangled him to death.

 

“Shit,” Taesob muttered, ignoring Daniel, “Rope… Rope or cloth where is-” Things made little clonking  and bumping sounds - he was rifling around somewhere.

 

“Where is Seongwoo?”

 

“Stop it,” Taesob answered from across the room.

 

“Where is my Seongwoo?”

 

The other man ignored him, but it only made Daniel’s fervor increase.

 

“Where is Seongwoo? What have you done with him? Is he still at Castle Jeon? Tell me!”

 

“Come on… Nothing?” Taesob was in his own world.

 

“Where is Seongwoo?” Daniel began repeating himself incessantly. He tired of the other’s game and was at wit’s end. Whether it was rage, desperation, or madness, something drove him to question the other ceaselessly.

 

“Where is my Seongwoo?

 

Where is he?

 

Where is my love?

 

What the fuck have you done with him?

 

Where is Seongwoo?

 

Where is Seongwoo?

  
Where is-”

 

“ _Squeaaak_ .” “ _Slam_!”

 

A door opened and shut behind Daniel quickly.

 

Suddenly, complete and utter silence.

 

It was as if a heavy cloth had been tossed over the entire room - even the groaning of the ship and the crashing of waves dulled. For a moment, there was nothing. Daniel’s heart clenched, paralyzed with nervous tension.

 

“ _Clop. Clop. Clop._ ”

 

The person’s boots hit the wooden floor heavily and with purpose. They grew nearer and nearer, making the King’s throat constrict.

  
“ _Clop. Clop. Clop…_ ”

 

They paused right next to Daniel. He turned toward the sound, straining to look at the miniscule sliver of vision he had at the bottom of his blindfold. Unfortunately, he saw nothing - at least, nothing discernable. Only white light. His heart pattered harshly against his chest, threatening to burst out. He waited.

 

And waited.

 

And waited.

 

“ _Clop. Clop. Clop…_ ” The boots continued, taking a spot somewhere in front of where Daniel sat.

 

“Captain,” Taesob’s tone changed completely. He regarded the person in charge - Captain of the ship, presumably - with reverence and respect.

  
Swallowing down his nerves, Daniel spoke resolutely, “Are you the one in charge?”

 

No answer came.

 

“So you refuse to even acknowledge me? Coward! As I told your peon here, you will all face my military’s wrath when they converge upon you. God have mercy on your fucking soul. Until then, I demand to know one thing- alright? One. Fucking. Thing. Where is Seongwoo?”

 

Yet again, no answer.

 

“Do not play ignorant, I’m aware you know damn well he is my beloved. I am sure nothing would please you more than to hurt him to spite me. I can ask that my military officers take mercy on you if you cooperate and tell me.”

  
Still nothing. Tense silence nearly suffocated his highness.

 

“You lot have one last time to answer me,” Daniel seethed. Yelling with all his might, he demanded, “Where is my Seongwoo?!”

 

Daniel winced. Blinding light dizzied him as the rough cloth was ripped from his eyes. A familiar voice answered:

 

“I’m right here. Daniel, welcome aboard the Onyx Vengeance.”


	30. Epilogue: The Palanquin and The Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EPILOGUE WARNING(s): mentions of death

Black bodies filled the church pews with such density that the old things buckled beneath their weight. Incensed smoke billowed toward the ceiling from the swinging thurible. Holding it was the highest ranking bishop, followed by a procession of altar hands and other men of cloth. Their ornate black robes trailed behind them across the tile floor. Servants carried in the Kang coat of arms behind them, brandishing a large, pristinely crafted tapestry bearing their symbol: the noble dog with a peach in its mouth. The young boys’ choir sang a haunting, somber tune, accompanied by a blaring organ. The faint sound of sniffles and cries could be heard beneath it all.

  
Castle Jeon had been plunged into mourning, and the cause of it laid lifeless in a palanquin just behind the bishops. Six soldiers carried the massive structure. A canopy of rich navy silk covered the beautifully crafted coffin within. The Kang coat of arms had been embroidered into panels on each side with luminous threads; it twinkled when the light filtering in through the stained glass windows caught it.

 

A hand shot to Prince Daehwi’s, squeezing it reassuringly. Blinking tears out of his eyes, the Kang Prince, turned his attention away from the palanquin. He gave Prince Bae Jinyoung a grateful look. When such profound tragedy had stricken, he had never anticipated that the Kingdom’s visitors would be such a source of overwhelming support. Queen Irene remained ineffably poised, and Daehwi had come to adore prince Jinyoung during their short time together. He’d never anticipated caring for the other so much. The boy would make an excellent husband, he thought. It deviated from his original impressions as to how his life would go, but he much preferred it.

 

For the slightest of instants, in the suffocating, incensed fog of depression, his lips upturned with satisfaction.

 

* * *

 

Eunji collapsed in her small bed, exhausted. Work had been hell in lieu of funeral preparations. Though the commoners and foreigners had left, nobles began swarming Castle Jeon in droves upon hearing the bad news. 

 

While no aspects of a servant’s life could be considered by any means luxurious, but she felt blessed to at least have a small space to herself. Especially during such a trying time. Even if said space was merely a closet she’d stealthily converted into a room of her own. A single candlestick lit her tiny room, sitting atop the stool she used as a bedside table. 

 

She had few personal effects. The chest that contained her fresh uniforms sat on the ground just a pace away from the foot of her bed. She had commandeered a tiny table and another stool which sat on the wall opposite her bed. A old lace-trimmed kerchief topped the table; she appreciated that it elevated the space subtly. Atop the kerchief sat a small silver box, one of her few precious belongings. Beneath the engraved lid sat a few trinkets she’d collected: keepsakes from past, bits from past festivals, and some small memories from childhood. 

 

Her face felt sore from the amount of crying she’d done. The woman had always prided herself on resiliency, but the death of the King and disappearance of his concubine had stricken a chord. Seongwoo had been a dear friend. Though they’d known each other for a short time, she’d come to adore him like a brother. Losing him was akin to losing a member of her own family. So many rotten people walked the castle halls without a worry. It tormented her that one of the few genuinely good people present had been lost. Distracted by work and saying goodbyes, she’d nearly forgotten about something she had until retiring to her quarters.

 

As the maid moved toward her bed, she stepped on something. A slip of paper. The note specified “DO NOT OPEN UNTIL AFTER THE FESTIVAL” in large letters. Eunji gasped. Seeing it on the ground beneath her feet felt like some sort of divine sign - as if Seongwoo’s spirit had placed it there. The maid bent over and picked it up, handling it with the utmost care. She had nothing but memories to remember her friend by. Memories and now: a letter. His own handwriting.

 

Rolling over, she placed the ltter her bedside table. Her eyes lingered on it as she removed her outer layers in preparation for sleep. It seemed rather peculiar, the more she thought about it, and wariness started to seep into her thoughts.

 

Seongwoo had been busy, that she knew. He’d been by King Daniel’s side for the duration of the third day. She held no quarrel toward that detail. Still, it struck her as funny that the man had not delivered the letter himself. The two were rather close, and surely he had no reason to hide anything from her.

  
Eunji mused that, perhaps, Seongwoo simply did not wish to be seen speaking to a maid in his majesty’s presence. Surely, though, he could tear himself away from the other’s side if he felt so inclined. Then again, with the wide expansion of activities across castle grounds, utilizing a messenger did provide immense convenience. The other curious part was the timing of the thing. If Seongwoo wished to deliver Eunji a note, but that she not open it until after the festival, why not deliver it a day later?

 

When she’d finished braiding her hair, the maid slid beneath her blankets and snatched the letter off of her bedside table. After much consideration, she decided that some light bedtime reading would help lull her into a sound sleep. Slipping her finger beneath the paper and wax, Eunji broke the seal.

  
Eagerly, the maid unfolded the letter. Something twinkled, falling onto her lap, and she nearly jumped at the unexpected object. Gingerly, Eunji reached for it, grabbing it delicately between her two fingers. The thing was tiny, no larger than a pebble. It felt cool to the touch, smooth, metallic; however one of the ends had been worked into a pointed hook. Squinting, she brought it closer to her candle to give the thing a better look.

 

She snorted, “An earring?” The stone was black, simple, and round. Studying it more closely, Eunji had to wager it was some sort of a black pearl. It looked stunning. A wide smile crossed her lips, and she turned the tiny, precious object in her hand with fondness. 

 

“Seongwoo, you shouldn’t have,” She spoke aloud, her voice thick. Carefully, she placed the black pearl earring onto her bedside table, praying that it not fall or roll off while she slept. It seemed very easy to lose. She felt most curious as to which stall he’d seen selling such little beauties, but she opted to read the letter before getting too sidetracked.

 

Her eyebrows reflexively raised upon seeing the amount of lettering on the paper. Surprising, really. His penmanship was surprisingly legible, too. Eunji felt most impressed. She also felt incredibly privileged to have made the acquaintance of someone so sharp and kind.

  
She swiftly got to reading it.

 

Eunji felt unsure as to how much time had passed when she had finally let the piece of paper drop onto her lap. 

 

She had read it eagerly. 

 

Then she’d read it again. 

 

And again. 

 

She’d lost count, but she had to guess more than half a dozen times. Her eyes scanned and studied the lines deliberately. The maid had analyzed the man’s words with more care than she put toward her life’s obligations. 

 

The letter crinkled beneath her crushing grip. Teardrops caused blotches of ink to warp and run. 

 

Sniffling, she cried,“Seongwoo… What have you done?”


	31. NOTES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // WARNING, MAJOR SPOILER ALERTS - DO NOT READ UNTIL YOU HAVE COMPLETED HIS HIGHNESS'S CONSTELLATION

**Never** pull that stunt in court again.

 

 **Trust** is key.

  
**A Concubine** and a King finding happiness together, a pirate and a fairy princess riding off into the sunset. What do these two things have in common? They are both fairy tales.

 

* * *

  

_The King & The Constellation Part 2 Coming Fall 2018!_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // I just want to thank you all for taking this journey with me. This story evolved and I feel like I grew a lot as a writer from it. I really appreciate shredz and my beloved longtime beta, Chikabow. I wish I could express my feelings better in words but I really can't. Please know that when I say I just... am so grateful to my readers and all the friends this piece has helped me meet, know I mean it. Thank you all so much.
> 
> Please anticipate the sequel! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

**Author's Note:**

> //i do not own anything in this story! i hope you enjoyed reading this little taste. since this fic is quite dark, warnings will be included at the beginning of each chapter. anticipate smut, gossip, and acts of betrayal.


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